An Unwanted Need
by Atman
Summary: "Seifer. I need you." With those words she broke the silent agreement of a long-standing friendship. Quistis tries to prepare for the needs of a mission and finds that she wants more than she needs.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Sure, I'm juggling way too many projects here. One I'm trying to finish as an experiment in parody. One I'm writing for myself. And this one. I got tired of explaining Seifer returning, but had another inspiration for a story with him and Quistis. It takes place well after the game, things are normal with the orphanage gang, and that's all I'm going to say on the matter. I've been asked for it. It's for you. Enjoy.

Rating for language and potentially other things…

Also, I don't own anything related to the game, nor do I profit from this.

: : :

Theirs was a friendship that was borne and would survive because of the unique qualities each had, some of which were only present for the other to see or feel. He stood just a little bit taller for her; she wore her hair down for him, releasing tightly reined fragrance and control. He tossed people into fountains who loitered around her classroom discussing her "assets"; she perpetuated rumors that he really _did _eat junior cadets for breakfast. He had just the right hard words to lift her when she was down; she was the only one who could bring him back to earth. He saved his meager offerings of odd sweetness for her and she showed only him her passions.

Perhaps most importantly of all, their friendship survived and even thrived these past several years because each was virtually the only member of the opposite sex to not make an effort to try to take off the other's pants. They were, willfully or not, completely ignorant of each other's peerless beauty.

They also never, ever, asked the other for help, with anything, _ever_.

Until one day...

: : :

"Seifer! Seifer, open the door!" Thunder punctuated each of her heavy knocks on his door. The man being summoned set down the paper he was reading and grumbled his way to the door. He punched open the metal slab and turned back to sit in his chair, not a glance or word to his visitor.

Quistis walked in and threw herself on the couch with restive sigh, implicitly begging to be asked what was the matter. She pulled off her shoes and anklet socks, stealing a glance at Seifer, who seemed absorbed in an article about the ways in which the livestock futures markets were set to skyrocket as newer farms were being terraformed and subsidised in Centra. Truthfully, he was tuned in and curious about his visitor's apparent plight, but wasn't about to acknowledge her theatrics.

She scooted down the couch and shoved her foot unceremoniously under his nose.

He threw the paper down and sat up. "Good lord, woman! Buy some new shoes or scrub your feet or something!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby. I only trained two hours today. They can't be that bad. Girls don't stink like guys do."

Seifer made a show of waving his hands in front of his nose and rolled his eyes. "No. They stink differently, but they still stink."

She raised a perfect eyebrow. "If it bothers you so much, do something about it." If she was being perfectly honest, and she wasn't; she didn't have to be for him to see what she wanted, she was tired and a little sore and hoped she could get a rub while she vented her problems to him. He was a good listener when you got down to it. He never interrupted and always had sage words of advice (though she didn't always want to hear them and many were unprintable).

"If it'll improve the smell and get you to spill about whatever the fuck has your panties in a twist so you can get out of here and I can sleep..." He threw up his hands in defeat and ducked into the bathroom to fetch a basin and fill it with soap and sitz and hot water. She offered him a sly smile as he reentered the living room and sat down the basin.

"Wait, this isn't the one you use for your own grubby feet -"

"- I really don't think the person who managed to get her feet to smell like propagator breath should be so picky," he snapped. Kneeling on the floor, he roughly pulled her legs down and slid her pantlegs up with calloused hands, then lifted her feet into the warm soapy water.

Quistis tensed immediately at the contact of the water, but soon relaxed, melting into the couch with Seifer's practiced ministrations drawing the tension out of her body. A feathery sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes. She felt truly blessed that she could turn to such a friend, especially after the sordid past they shared just a few years ago. That blessed feeling didn't change that fact that she feared bringing up the topic she was about to with him.

"I'm going on a mission soon."

He grunted. "Yeah? Well, you've been itching to go on one, right? What's the problem?"

She looked away. "I need your help."

Those jaded eyes made their way to her turned face, narrowed. "You never need my help."

"Well, now I do."

"I didn't get called to go on it, so I can't go with you." His fingers were pushing with bruising force into the soles of her feet. She was no normal woman and it didn't really hurt her. He knew she liked it.

"I didn't ask you to."

"Then what do you want?" He hated it when people beat around the bush and he didn't expect it from her.

She looked at him then, watching as he scrubbed gently between her toes and ran a squeezing hand along her shin and calf. "I need you to teach me something."

He laughed, sending some water on the floor as he clutched his chest. "What could I possibly teach you, instructor?"

"You're an instructor too."

Seifer chuckled. "Yeah. I teach classes on 'How to Slice Things into Two or More Pieces in Three or Fewer Steps.' Something tells me that's not what you want to learn. Why don't you ask your instructor boyfriend?"

"He can't know about this mission."

Seifer raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"He wouldn't want me to go on it." She shrugged.

"He is aware that you, you know, helped save the universe as we know it, right? Are _you_ aware? What the fuck is this mission?" Seifer pulled her feet out of the cooling water and toweled her off before dumping the basin in the bathtub.

"Better?" He asked from the bathroom.

"Mm-hmm. What was in that stuff, lavender?"

"Yes. I like lavender. You barge in here often enough, I figure the least you could do is smell like something I like." He sat on the couch end opposite her and she laid her feet in his lap, but not before presenting them for inspection. Seifer sniffed experimentally. "It's an improvement." He rested his hands on her legs in a way that seemed to neither exhibit nor invite intimacy in the two friends.

After drawing in a big breath and staring straight ahead, Quistis finally shared the mission details. "There's a potential big time benefactor for Garden who wants to meet with a SeeD to determine if, or how much, he should donate to our cause. I need to try to get him to politically back us and open his checkbook to write many, many zeros in it."

"…And?"

"And he really has a closet thing for pretty blondes."

He shrugged. "Sounds like a slam dunk then. What's the issue?"

"Seifer, he's not a pushover. I'm going to have to seduce him."

"I'm still not seeing the problem here." Sometimes he just didn't seem to have any empathy.

She ticked off the problems on her fingers. "One. I'm seeing someone. We're talking about infidelity. Two. For being an elite paramilitary woman who's seen and done things few people could dream of, I'm almost painfully boring. Three. I have no idea how to seduce anyone. Four. I can't have sex with this guy!"

He lifted his hands and countered her arguments on respective fingers. "A. It's your job. It doesn't mean anything. SeeDs do it all the time. B. You're not boring, you're reserved. Loosen up and share. I dunno, have some drinks. C. Are you fucking kidding me? Every warm-blooded straight man with a dick in Garden has lusted after you."

Quistis shook her head. "You exaggerate. Not every guy has come onto me."

"Squall doesn't count."

Her lips pursed into a thin white line.

He continued, undaunted. "D. It's the promise of sex that opens the checkbook, not the act itself."

"You see? This is why I need you." She sat up, and sent a pleading look into his eyes. The thunder rumbled quietly through the thick walls and the patter of rain filtered through the slit of the window.

He shoved her legs off him and stood up, pacing around the room. "Fuck no! Ask Kinneas. He doesn't seem to have any trouble getting the ladies."

"That's just it, though. He works to get the ladies, not the other way around. You and I both know I've never worked for any of the attention I receive from the opposite sex and neither do you. You've landed every pretty worthwhile girl in Garden _and _you made them work for it. I need to know what gets you to cave."

He glared at her as though she had an ulterior motive. "Now you're exaggerating. Ask your boyfriend how you caught him."

"Damn it, Seifer! I didn't catch him and you know it. I gave in to him."

"And this guy won't be one to chase you, huh?" She shook her head. "Fuck. I won't help you. You'll have to do this on your own."

Sitting up now, she bowed her head and held it in her hands. Her voice was muffled and damp. It made him stop his pacing. "Every time I try to open up to or pursue the man I want it ends in disaster. Whom are you trying to kid? I couldn't win anyone's affection. Not when it really matters to me…"

Lightening flashed into the room, this storm having a flair for the dramatic.

Quietly she padded behind him and put her hands on his tense shoulders. He jumped. Golden hair was spilled over her eyes so he couldn't have seen the tears falling, but he knew he could hear them without even turning around. His sigh seemed to expand the room and the breath that took its place seemed to make him fill it.

Seifer delighted in making her more human, kindling emotion and passion, and making her react and think in ways she never felt comfortable doing. But he hated to make her cry.

He didn't want her to owe him anything. That was how friendships changed. That was how they were destroyed.

She sniffled once behind him and took in a ragged breath to talk. "Seifer. I _need_ _**you**_. Garden needs the money and the political backing of this guy. I need you to grant me this favor. You're the only one who can."

Seifer quietly shook his head. He was going to regret this.

"Okay. That was a good start. Asking for favors is always a good way to come into someone's graces. Makes them feel important and special, gives them a connection to you."

She smiled at him, her wide blue eyes twinkling. Her arms wended around him and squeezed him tightly to her. She wiped her eyes on the broad expanse of his shirt back. He was always there for her.

Seifer patted her hands. "Woah there, you vixen! You're moving way too fast! I'll never give you my money now: I'd get arrested for soliciting a prosti-"

She hit him. He laughed.

Then so did she.


	2. Chapter 2

Theirs was a rapport achieved through many clashes. She would insult his planning abilities; he would tell her that her reaction skills lacked. She would tell him to prepare for everything; he would scoff and return his own platitude, "prepare for everything, accomplish nothing." She could sit and criticize him for making the wrong choices; he would tell her, in no uncertain terms, that for every wrong choice he made, she failed to make any choice three times over. She berated him for being too brash; he chastised her for holding her tongue. She observed, he experienced.

He was a torn and tangled hand that somehow fit her comforting, worn glove.

: : :

"What time is it?"

"Who cares? It's Saturday. Nobody has to do anything tomorrow." She countered.

"Your boyfriend doesn't wonder where you are?"

Her collarbones angled upwards as she shrugged. "He knows I visit you often."

Finally finding a clock, he responded. "At 0:40 hours? And he's okay with this?"

Quistis laughed. "Why? Are you afraid he might come try to beat you up?"

Seifer mulled over the question much longer than was necessary, since it was effectively rhetorical. While certainly no slouch in other settings, Quistis' boyfriend wasn't a particularly intimidating specimen by Garden standards. Consequently, he would have physically intimidated Seifer Almasy nearly as much as a bite bug intimidates a behemoth.

"Only for your sake. Wouldn't want you to have to scrape the love of your life off the floors and walls. And ceilings."

Quistis had come back to the couch. A pensive scowl took over her face as she patted the seat next to her. "Oh, come off it. 'The love of my life?' Please..."

She paused, noting how Seifer had his chin resting on his thumb and his index finger stretched to his temple as it often did when in tired thought.

"Sit down and stop pretending to be lost in thought, you oaf."

When he did sit, arm wrapping behind her head on the back of the couch, over the spilled gold of her hair, he asked, "So, if you know he's not the love of your life, why are you still with him?"

"What?"

Seifer's eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head. "If you think I'm going to clean your ears out for you, you're crazy. You heard what I said."

"Why were you with the women you were with?" She shrugged.

"Because sex is fun."

He paused, gazing at closed door with a penetrating stare.

"You'll note that I don't _stay_ with them like you are with your... Whatever he is. Answer my question and do it without a question in return this time." He faced her, pinning her down with his eyes. ...And then arms, when she tried to get up to leave.

She struggled futilely for only a few seconds, recognizing that it was a waste of energy. "Because... It's nice to be adored and doted on. He's kind and smart and..."

Seifer watched her response run dry and smiled a wicked grin. "So, what you're really saying is 'I, Quistis Trepe, the World's Biggest Overachiever, am _settling_ for a man I don't really like, and certainly don't love, and who doesn't even pleasure me..."

Her fist's connection with his jaw didn't remove his grin as intended, only moved it. It was now located slightly left of its former home, about three inches and one blossoming welt away. Pitifully scowling, she asked, "Why can't my reason be the same as yours?"

"If it was, you'd have said so."

With a sigh that melded with the susurrus rain, she admitted as much.

"So, what's he have to do that's more important than being with you?" Seifer had started to comb through some knots in her hair with his fingers. It had the effect of releasing the mellifluous fragrance of her shampoo. Jasmine. It was another of his favorite scents.

Quistis loosed an unladylike snort. "He's probably sleeping. Or researching the origins of para-magic. He can never stay away from it for long. He'd probably sooner take Dr. Odine to bed than me."

A shudder went through his body, but Seifer otherwise ignored the comment. "And he doesn't care that Garden's most desirable woman spends so much time with another man?"

"He knows you're a friend, that I've known you all my life, and that you keep me sane. Relatively." She bit at her bottom lip and tucked some wayward hair behind her ear. "I've made it clear that if I don't get at least a daily Seifer fix, I'll grow restless and violent. I can't deal with all the students' constant questions, Selphie's begging, Zell's antics, Aidan's whining and droning, and all the paperwork and bureaucracy without you."

He nodded. "Mm."

Aidan. That was her boyfriend's name. He had forgotten.

Seifer liked to be considered a threat. It fundamentally bothered his manhood that this other guy wasn't jealous and up-in-arms that he spent so much time with his girl. Either that, or Quistis protested for his harmlessness too much. Or Aidan was just a pussy and had somehow landed a woman far stronger than he was, not to mention just plain too good for him. All of those possibilities made Seifer angry, in a vague way.

Unfortunately for him and his poker playing tendencies, he wore his emotions on his sleeves, which he rolled up or ripped off frequently to keep them from showing too much. As it was, he had pinched his scar taught, and she noticed its brighter red hue.

Quistis swept back the stray hairs that fell over his eyes. He looked toward her, seemingly not aware that he was still scowling. "Hey," She said, not knowing what was bothering him, but seeing that something was wrong. He was a man who, despite his confidence and perpetual arrogance, often needed to be reassured. "You know that you're the only man who will always be in my life, right? You **will **always be there for me."

He smirked. "Is that an order?"

"Yes it is."

"Huh. Well, it's too bad I outrank you then."

"You do not!"

"Yes I do. Squall made up the Gold SeeD ranking just for me."

"Huh," She mocked. "Well, it's too bad that you never back out on your word and that you're my bitch. Now help me."

"You know, I used to think you'd grow out of your bossy phase, but after over 15 years, I've finally made peace with the fact that it's not a phase."

She patted his shoulder. "I'm so glad for your acceptance." Quistis paused. "Help. Now."

"I thought that's what I was doing."

"How, exactly?"

"Well, making you admit how little Aidan means to you should make it easier to pretend to cheat on him."

"He doesn't mean little to me! It's nice to be taken care of, to engage in intellectual conversation, to be wanted and get flowers, have someone worry about me."

"Yeah? None of those things saw their advent when Aidan came along. You've had fan club for almost ten years, a fucking _statue_ for two, professors and instructors from across the globe consult you on everything from junctioning strategies to presentational skills, and you have six good friends who would lay down their lives for you."

She sighed and got off the couch. "Yeah, so I guess I settled. Sue me. It's not like it's hurting anyone, I'm enjoying being pampered for once and he likes the prestige of dating me, as strange as that sounds."

There was a clinking noise from the kitchenette followed by two hissing noises. When Quistis emerged from her short trip she was carrying too bottles of dark beer. She handed one to Seifer and studied the label of the other. _Cerberus Trippel Ale, _it read. _11% ABV_.

Seifer took an appreciative draught and shrugged. "As long as you're happy."

"I am." She sat down, still looking at the bottle. "This stuff is going to kick my ass, isn't it?"

"As long as you take it slow and only have one, maybe two if you eat something, you should only get nice and relaxed. Practicing loosening the tongue, eh?"

Quistis drank. "As long as it helps to loosen the wallet, I'm game. So, what else do I need to know about seduction?" As she asked the question, she traced a nail along his jawline, grinning.

He caught her hand. "Well, for one, don't make intimate physical contact too soon. It'll only make him uncomfortable or steer things too far from the course they need to go. If he doesn't have to use any money to get something he wants, why should he? What it's really all about it finding a way to tie his interests to your own and then doing your damnedest to embody them while flattering his ambitions. Make sense?"

She nodded and set her glasses in the windowsill. "Mr. Almasy. I understand you enjoy turning things into many more, smaller things, sometimes pulled apart or extra crispy. In fact, I believe you chair the Balamb Area Society for Chopping Things into Many Smaller Things, is that right?"

Seifer put on the best aloof air he could, which was pretty believable. He channeled Squall. "It is. I use a gunblade."

"Oh, my," She said, eyes wide. "I've heard they're very hard to handle." After drinking some more, she scooted closer and placed her hand high on his thigh. "Would you let me hold it? It must be very big."

"Fucking hell, Quistis!" Seifer shot up, incensed. She could tell he was really mad because he used her real name. His eyes were green coal, smoldering when he turned to face her. "If you aren't going to take this seriously you should just go."

"Oh, Seifer, come on." She laughed, but it was nervous. "I can't believe I need to be the one to tell you to lighten up. I was just having a little fun."

"I didn't agree to help you have fun. I agreed to help you prepare for a mission. _Your job_." He sighed loudly. "Maybe you should ease up on that beer."

She quickly drank the rest out of spite.

"Great." His hands flew up in the air in defeat and disgust. He cursed at the action as it caused him to spill some of the beer he was holding. Finishing the rest, he walked to the refrigerator to grab another. It looked like he was going to need it to get through the night.

"Get me another one too." He heard from the other room.

"What's the magic word?"

"Ummm… Will 'wench' suffice?"

"Close enough." He muttered.

Not finding wherever she put the bottle opener, he opened the beers with his buckle and walked back into the living area, where Quistis was changing out of her blouse and into one of his shirts. He stopped momentarily, watching disbelievingly as she pulled the garment over her bare back.

"Go ahead. Make yourself at home. Drink my beer, wear my clothes… Should I fetch you some pillows to prop up your feet? Or maybe you'd like to have my firstborn?"

She grabbed the second beer from him and threw her clothes at him when she returned to her seat. He caught them and set them on the coffee table. "Just how _are_ the kids anyway?"

"Oh, you know, they run the gamut. Depends on the mother."

Quistis was pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail. With raised eyebrows, she asked, "You don't really have any kids, do you?"

"Hell no. I always wear protection. And Garden girls are made sterile on a monthly basis…" He stopped then, momentarily worried. "…Right? That's what they always told me."

Quistis giggled. "Yes. We get a shot." He sat back down and she resumed her interrogation. "How many women have you slept with? Ballpark figure?"

"Less than a ballpark, definitely." He tapped his finger to the side of his face. "Well, maybe not less than Winhill's…"

When she laughed her eyes closed together, pinching out seldom-seen crow's feet. "Maybe someday..."

"Maybe someday, what?"

"Maybe someday I'll catch up to you."

"How far do you have to go?"

Suddenly, he realized, the silence seemed to stretch like a too-small sock over the room. He saw that the beer had already brought a charming blush to her cheeks. A sheepish smile came out from under it.

"Ask me again after the first."

His beer made its way painfully out of his nose.

"You've never… Not even with what's-his-name?"

Face growing an uncomfortable shade of red, she retorted. "What did you expect? I might be pretty, but I'm far too uninteresting, or _reserved__,_ to take the plunge." Seifer stared at her in an unsettling and ponderous way. "Don't look at me like that."

"But, you must have had hundreds, _thousands, _of opportunities. Nobody was good enough for you? Or are you saving yourself?" He thought for a minute and frowned genially. "Nah, you're not that traditional, to wait for marriage. But, you're right. Nobody is good enough for you. You and Aidan have been together awhile though. Haven't taken things to the next level?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not? You know I won't blab to anyone else. You can tell me."

She sat very still for a minute or more. Seifer saw her wage her internal debate, unsure if the alcohol would loosen her self-doubt. "I just can't bring myself to trust him, or anyone else, for that matter, enough to reveal that much of me. Body and soul..."

For the first time that night, he held back any response or offensive to push the subject and give his perspective. It was one area where he could leave well enough alone. The only reason he asked her about it was because of the shock at her admission. He'd never asked before, and never would again. If you were happy and content with your sex life, or lack thereof, Seifer could be happy for you. He did what he wanted and so could she. They both drank in silence for a little while, listening to the soothing sounds of the parting storm. Eventually she sank down and lay against him, head on his shoulder, arm over his leg.

With the strong drink and even stronger metabolism, Seifer could already feel a pleasant buzz. Quistis showed hers with the development of what Seifer liked to call "permagrin." It was a smile that she didn't know she wore and she never seemed to take off.

"Think I'm loose-lipped enough yet? Shit, I started bawling about guys who got away before I even started drinking."

Seifer formed a response, but she started to continue, and he noted with some dismay that she had nearly finished her second bottle. It had only been an hour. Her wide azure eyes were crowded by dilated pupils that turned to focus on him.

"Of course, that was probably just because I'm with you. I can relax around you. I trust you."

Her words were delivered far too seriously for someone who just couldn't stop smiling. "Well, if you can trust someone who so little deserves it as me, this politician should be no problem. But spilling too much and trusting too quickly won't do any good either." Seifer's head lolled back against the windowsill, part in rest, part in exasperation. "How long before this mission?"

Despite his criticism, her smile went wider. "Friday."

"Damn... I have my work cut out for me. Better make yourself comfortable." It was a sarcastic remark, but as usual, she paid it no heed. He looked down at her as she set her empty bottle on the coffee table and sent an eye-swallowing smile to him as she left the room.

"I'm way ahead of you." She was in his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" He quickly finished his remaining beer and followed her into his bedroom, wondering what she was playing. Quistis was bent over his bed fluffing one of his pillows.

She turned and raised an eyebrow. "You did tell me to make myself at home." Rocking on her feet as she stood up, she abruptly shed her SeeD pants, and stood wearing only his overlarge shirt.

As she peeled back the covers to climb in, Seifer put up both hands and waved them frantically, worried about what she wasn't saying about her trust issues. "Oh no. No, no, no, no... There no way Aidan is okay with this, there's no way _you're _okay with this sober."

"Lucky thing I'm not sober then," she scoffed. "When did you turn into such a prude, worried about piteous _consequences_? What do you care what Aidan thinks? We don't sleep in the same bed, let alone have sex, so he won't be missing me even in the morning. I just want to know what it's like. Sleeping in the same bed, I mean. With someone I trust."

Seifer's arms crossed over his chest and they seemed to sink into him when he heaved a dramatic sigh.

"And how do you know I wasn't planning on bringing a beautiful woman into my bed tonight?"

Quistis looked around, over, and under the covers, but never got out of the bed.

"There's already one there," she intoned, sagely.

"All right, all right. Smartass," he said, then removed his shirt. "Move over, bed hog."

Quistis moved back toward the wall and Seifer slid in next to her. His breathing had just started to even and slow when she spoke again.

"Seifer?"

"Hm?"

"Can I have a pillow for my feet?"

"Go the fuck to sleep, Quistis." He couldn't help snickering along with her.

: : :

Author's Note: Some disclaimers – The contraceptive shots were not my idea, but have been in several stories.

The "Ballpark figure" bit was based on some dialogue from Seinfeld, in a conversation with Elaine. Their relationship provides a loose template on Seifer and Quistis' here, in the one respect that I wanted to show absolute comfort that _almost _completely obviates sexual tension.

_Go the F*ck to Sleep _is a facecious bed-time book for adults that very well approximates how it feels to be a parent at night. I always felt like Seifer would read it.

I'm not sure it's working, frankly, but I'm trying to keep them in character, have interesting and sometimes witty dialogue, and maintain some kind of building tension. This will probably end up fairly long. 10 chapters or so. I'm in it for the long haul.

On an incidental personal note: today is my youngest son's second birthday, and we're all sick. :(


	3. Chapter 3

Theirs was an understanding that was unspoken, honed through many years of careful observation and reckless experimentation. He knew how and when to tease out the latent fire to better herself when no one else would point out an error; she knew just which wire to cut to defuse him when he was primed to go off. He could shut down her mind when it threatened to overwhelm her with worries; she sparked his curiosity when he grew bored. He could take away her stress; she could deliver him from complacency. He made the world black and white when shades started to run together; she gave monochrome a brilliant vibrancy.

It was an understanding that went beyond likes and dislikes. It was one that knew when to give one versus the other. It was beyond finishing sentences, seeing thoughts, and reading between the lines.

: : :

Each of them awoke exactly once during the morning. Seifer was roused when Quistis' soft snoring stopped abruptly with a snort. She smacked her drying lips and resumed a more normal breathing pattern. Quistis woke early in the morning with pressure on her bladder.

"Seifer," She shook him gently. "You're on my arm."

Perhaps for only the second or third time in his adult life, he had the decency to look embarrassed, and he lifted his body off her arm and his arm off her body.

"You snuggle in your sleep."

He'd never known, because he'd never let anyone stay overnight, and didn't stay with anyone else. Grunting, and by way of few words, he admitted this fact. Seifer wasn't much for talking in the morning before coffee with sweet cream, or probably more accurately, sweet cream with coffee.

"You should try it more often." She smiled. "It was nice to wake up next to you."

Seifer made a snide comment about not wanting any women to get too attached before deciding to address the issue of his dry throat and Quistis' headache that she wasn't yet aware of. She pushed him down as he tried to get out of bed.

"I'll make the coffee; I know how you like it."

She climbed over him and walked into the living room. In her bare feet and legs, she only managed to make it to the window and close it. The storm had blown in a cold front during the night, making Seifer's suite damp and cold. Quistis ran back to the bedroom after turning on the heat. Clambering back into bed, she lingered a moment to steal some warmth from Seifer. Also, to press uncomfortably cold fingers to his abdomen.

He promptly attempted to throw her off, but she'd snaked her arms around his back, laughing while he thrashed around. Seifer stopped, ending up on top of her, doing his best to ignore the effects the cold had on her body, and any reciprocal effects on his. He didn't like cold.

Completely oblivious to the potential effects she could be having on him, she lay there grinning, occasionally giggling up at his scowling visage. Fortunately, Seifer had the capacity for indifference equal to five housecats or Squall on a particularly caring day, and didn't acknowledge when her genuine acts of merriment became flirtatious. He'd made an early career of ignoring her, after all.

She let go and tried to pet down his hair which was sticking out to the side on his right, and straight up on his left. It didn't work. He got up off her and marched into the kitchenette after stopping to pull a shirt on.

The morning came with its customary Balamb fog over blue hills. Seifer made a small pot of coffee. His cup was made with almost equal parts espresso and sweet cream. It was still fairly cold inside, but it was warming rapidly.

He stood before the window for a long while, watching the restless surf, rolling fog, and migratory terns, while drinking his morning brew. When he returned to the bedroom, Quistis was still lying down, an arm over her eyes.

Shaking his head, he grabbed her cup of coffee and wafted it in front of her face, waking her up. After blinking slowly, she smiled faintly and took the proffered aspirin with coffee. She ran her hands along the sheets.

"What time is it?"

"8:13"

"Why don't you come back in bed until it warms up in here? I can tell you're cold."

He sat down. "You mean to listen to you whine incessantly in close quarters after not having brushed your teeth in over 12 hours? You make a tempting offer..."

"You make it sound like I won't even be getting a good-morning kiss."

"Would hash browns, eggs, and bacon make up for it?"

"I'll make it. You made the coffee."

"I don't think so, Trepe."

"Why not?"

"Everyone knows if there's one thing you can't do, it's cook." The stories of her attempts were sometimes humorous, but more often were tragic, and probably accounted for more injuries in her SeeD career than all her time spent training.

She glared at him. "And seduce."

"And seduce," he agreed.

"Guess it's just another thing you'll have to teach me, _instructor_."

"Just how much time do you think I have?"

"For me, all the time in the world." She produced a surprisingly accurate facsimile of Selphie's face-splitting million-watt grin.

They made breakfast together after she slipped into a pair of his gym shorts and made temporary use of his toothbrush when he wasn't paying attention.

Quistis sneaked out of the bathroom as Seifer laid out a several strips of bacon and was seasoning the hash browns. She successfully cracked six eggs and whisked them together with a little milk at his direction. He guided her hands to melt a pad of butter on a pre-heated pan and pantomimed how to flip the hash browns. Seifer folded his larger hand over hers and made constant peeling shoves with the spatula, showing how to evenly cook the eggs.

It was a domineering way to teach, but it was successful, almost tender, and objective enough to not be judgmental. All in all, she'd had far worse classes.

At his dry announcement that the arrival of the first response medics was not the way he traditionally liked to start his meals, except on the holidays, he left her to take over the eggs. A short time later breakfast was made and no one was severely injured, and Quistis was struck by the domesticity of the scene. They had never spent quite so much continuous time together as adults, but it surprisingly was far from awkward.

She plated the food, and, getting far inside his personal space, said, "Thanks instructor."

He was pleased that her breath was sweet and minty, then angry at realizing she hadn't brought her own toothbrush, then resigned. Ultimately, he didn't really care. Quistis' mouth was clean enough to eat off of, so to speak.

They ate in near silence. Quistis saw her headache gradually disappear. Seifer chewed contentedly.

"You can buy dinner tonight. And bring some wine," Seifer announced when he was finished eating.

"A little presumptuous, aren't we? What makes you think you'll be getting a second date, and so soon?" She winked for effect.

Seifer shrugged, smirking. "They always come back."

"I thought you didn't allow repeat customers."

"For you I'll make an exception. Besides, if you fall through on this mission, _I _could be out of a job down the line. My motivations are purely selfish."

"Well, whatever your motivations, a girl could get used to this." She leaned back in her chair watching him.

He folded his arms on top of the table. "Hm. That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

"What would be so bad about committing? You could find someone you really like and take the time to know them better. Maybe you could be really happy."

"I'm happy now."

She tilted her head inquisitively. "Are you? What would it take to get you to stick with one woman? To be in an ongoing relationship?"

His eyes narrowed. "What's with the third degree, Trepe? I don't question what makes you happy."

"Actually, you do. Constantly. And most of the time you're right," Quistis sighed. Glancing at him she saw that she'd successfully made him wear his pensive scowl. She'd made him think about something he'd been unaware of or unwilling to address. A smile played at her lips.

Seifer saw the smile and smiled a little grin in return. The private, for-her-eyes-only smile that was shy and barely there, but might as well have been a giant beam for all its elusiveness and honesty. She reached out for his hand across the table and gave it a squeeze.

"I don't know if such a woman exists. She'd have to be perfect _and_ willing to change," he admitted. "Also, she'd need to accept the fact that I would spend almost as much time with you as with her." His smile turned into the 'shit-eating' variety. "Of course, I don't know that I could ever find a girl who's a bigger pushover than Aidan and still able to handle me."

Quistis swatted at him, but he moved out of the way, laughing. They both left the table and took their dishes to the sink.

"I'm going to do the dishes," she announced.

He walked away. "Hold off for a bit. I'm going to take a shower."

"Sure," she said. Without meaning it, it should be noted.

She waited for a few minutes to ensure the best timing and then ratcheted the hot water to full blast, setting to work on the tableware first. As she was humming a happy song that went in tune with Seifer's loud curses and muttered oaths, the doorbell rang. She walked over to the door and opened it, having completely forgotten that her current outfit contained nothing from her own wardrobe.

"Heya, Seif-" Selphie stopped short and narrowed suspiciously her huge and all-seeing eyes. "Whoa… Hi, Quisty." She ran her eyes quickly over the shorts that ran past her friend's knees and the baggy shirt that came to mid-thigh. They took in also the glasses in the windowsill and the blouse and bra on the table next to a couple of beer bottles.

"Seifer's in the shower. Want to come in?"

Selphie took a tentative step inside.

"He get dirty last night?" Disfiguring her face horribly, but in a cute and funny way, Selphie attempted to wink.

"Is there something in your eye?"

"No. Did you guys, you know, make the beast with four backs?" She nudged Quistis playfully. It was easier to interpret. Marginally.

Quistis laughed. "Selphie, I have a boyfriend. No, we didn't do anything. And it's two backs."

Selphie snorted. "Yeah. So do I, but you don't look a gift chocobo in the beak. Or the other way when Seifer's undressed."

"Selphie!"

"What?" She scrunched her nose. "You guys are together all the time. One would think that you'd get, you know, _together,_ sooner or later. Sooner would be my advice. Hyne…" Selphie surveyed the room again. "Are you telling me that you stayed here last night and made no attempt to jump him?"

"No, I told you no such thing." Selphie's eyes narrowed again. She hit Quistis upside the head with much more force than anyone who barely weighed a hundred pounds should be able to manage.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Quisty?"

Selphie shook her head and marched to the bathroom, in which the water was still running. She pulled the door open forcefully.

Quistis could hear a muffled 'what the fuck?' and then a much louder and more shrill, 'what the hell's the matter with you two?' The scraping of the shower grommets came just before a whack of skin on skin.

"Ow! Tilmitt! What the hell's that for? Get the hell out of my bathroom!" The grommets shrieked back into place.

A sharp huff. "You know what that was for you giant idiot!" She slammed the door on the way out. Quistis was amused, alarmed, and thoroughly confused when Selphie turned to her.

"Quistis, trust me. You're missing out on a _lot_."

"Selphie," Quistis shook her head, missing the innuendo yet again. "He's my best friend. I can't think of him like that."

The truth was, Quistis couldn't see Seifer as a sexual being, even when discussing his exploits. She was sure he couldn't see her that way either. That was why they worked.

"Why not? It's easy. All you do is imagine him as he is right now, or better yet, go see for yourself. All hot and wet…"

"Selphie! Why did you come over here anyway?" Qusitis desperately tried to derail Selphie's train of thought, which was usually easy, despite her love for trains.

"Oh. Just seeing if Seifer had seen you. Aidan's been looking for you and I think he's afraid, unjustifiably, apparently," Selphie added, with no small amount of disgust. "That he'd find you in a compromising position if he came over here to look for you." She waved, happy as a, as a… As happy as Selphie usually is. "Seeya, Quisty!"

The door slid shut. If Quistis' head hadn't hurt where Selphie had smacked her, she might have thought she'd been through some kind of paranormal experience. Experiences with Selphie were often like that.

Seifer finished his shower and Quistis resumed her dishwashing. She watched as he made his way to his bedroom to change and saw the tiny red handprint on the back of his neck. Soon she'd have to find Aidan and attempt to placate him, spend a little time with him; it didn't take much, before preparing to come back here for more lessons. Maybe she could out them to good use even before the mission. Maybe there was something to this whole 'sex being fun' thing.

He came out of his bedroom just as Quistis finished with the dishes.

"The hell was that all about?" He asked.

"Just thought you could use a cold shower, loverboy."

"What?" He waved his hand irritably. "No, Tilmitt. What was up her ass?"

"Who knows? You know how she gets." Seifer grunted an affirmation. "I'm going to hop in the shower now, then clear out," she said.

"Fine. You have a lot to do before we can do anymore lessons, anyway." He picked up the paper and started reading. Quistis nodded and walked into the bathroom, locking the door, lest Selphie should come back.

Only a few minute later, the doorbell rang again. Seifer answered it, begrudgingly. There was an entirely average man on the other side, relatively good-looking, but in an unremarkable way. Neither short nor especially tall.

"Aidan. What can I do for you?" Seifer didn't exactly hate the man, but didn't respect him much. He was cordial as always, for Quistis' sake.

"Seifer." The other man nodded and swallowed. "Have you seen Quistis?"

"She's in the shower. Do you want to wait inside?" Seifer walked back to the couch and silently cursed as he noticed that Quistis had left her clothes on the table and hadn't taken them with her to the shower as he expected.

Aidan's eyes narrowed and he turned deep red. "What did you do to her, Almasy?"

Seifer was never one to see a volatile situation and not want to see it explode, but he was somewhat restrained for Quistis. He shrugged. "Bought her a new outfit?"

"Bullshit." The smaller man was fuming.

Seifer was calm in his seat. "If you think she'd mess around on you with me then you don't know her. At all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He paced. "I know all her favorite books, paintings, and songs. I know what food she loves and how she prefers the moonrise over the sunset."

To Seifer, it sounded a lot like bragging. "Yeah, yeah. Her eyes are blue, her hair is long. Look, I'm not arguing with you, but if you can't trust someone you're with, then you obviously don't know them that well." He wasn't trying to say anything between the lines, but knew he was. "You don't know what makes her tick, you don't know she has passions she's afraid to pursue, you don't know that you aren't fostering them, and you don't know that she respects you too much to cheat on you, and _I_ have no idea why."

Thoroughly cowed, Aidan nodded vaguely. "Then what's this?" He pointed to her clothes. "Did she stay here last night?"

"I think this is something you need to talk to her about, not me." Seifer sighed. "She comes to me because we've been friends for years. She feels comfortable around me. With time, and some effort on your part, she could be comfortable around you too." He wasn't totally sure why he gave the man advice, but he thought maybe it could make Quistis happy, and that thought made the distasteful act easier to swallow.

Aidan nodded again, looking away. "Thanks." He left before Quistis was done.

She exited the bathroom with a towel around her body and head. "Was someone here? I thought I heard voices," She asked as she picked up her clothes from the table.

"Aidan." Seifer didn't look up from the paper. "I defused the situation caused by your clothes lying around, but I think you'll need to do damage control." From Seifer, that was a huge gesture of goodwill.

"Shit," she muttered from his bedroom where she was changing. "I'll spend some time with him, do some homework on this politician, and meet you at 18:00 to train. Then we can have dinner and work. Sound like a plan?"

"Sure."

She walked out, put on her socks and shoes, and met him at the door. Quistis knew he didn't like them, but she gave him a big hug anyway. She showed thanks more easily than she said it and he needed to get used to it. Seifer let it slide because she often gave him exactly what she needed.

She waved a little when she walked out the door. "Tonight I get the outside of the bed."

He gaped, then shook his head, smiling. "Bring your own toothbrush!"

: : :

Author's Note: The idea that Quistis can't cook isn't my own, but I suppose no one owns it, and it makes sense to me.

Anyway, I hope you're enjoying.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: A few things – An action sequence follows. I think it's okay, but nothing great. Seifer's ability is based on the game's own statistics, so don't rag on me. I don't think I under-represent Quistis' fighting prowess here, but I'm not one to depict her as some sort of Valkyrie or war goddess, at least not relative to her in-game peers.

Sun-Tzu is referenced in a roundabout way below.

I also firmly believe Seifer would express words of affection or other emotions if he felt them. He seems to be the type of consequences-be-damned person in other areas and I'm saying it holds in this realm too. Yes, he's a sweetheart with Quistis sometimes here, but only with her, and he's still often a jerk about it. Hope you still consider him in character.

"Monument to all our sins" is a reference to an achievement in Halo Reach.

Maybe I'm predictable, or recycle themes and words, but I hope I do so in a meaningful way. That's the intent. I'm also determined to end every chapter with laughter.

Thank you to my reviewers. You make writing this all the more rewarding. Enjoy.

: : :

Theirs was a guilt that was self-fulfilling. She couldn't take it when she failed others; he loathed when he failed himself. She found her tongue disappeared when someone needed comfort; he knew that his just grew sharper on the grating sounds of suffering. He hated how he couldn't discipline himself; she sometimes wished she could stop. She was consumed because she could only share her true self with him; he was enflamed because he wanted to keep it that way.

She was a confessor who only admitted her culpability to the sin she had made. He didn't confess because he was out of forgiveness' reach.

: : :

Sparing with Seifer was a masochist's wet dream. Or a very fast and skilled sadist's, since he didn't mind getting hurt as much as he didn't mind hurting. Quistis always asked to train with him when she felt ashamed or down, needing to be punished, and his were castigations from which one could always learn.

Seifer was at least as strong as Squall, almost as fast as Kiros in his prime, and unknown to many, one of the most powerful casters in Balamb Garden. Quistis was too competitive to just cede the matches to him and take a beating and he wouldn't oblige her if she did. Instead she attempted to hone her aim and tactics: by ambushing, feinting, various magical combinations, and generally staying far away from Hyperion.

Easier said than done didn't have many better exemplars.

She watched him saunter into the training center at 17:58. His gunblade was already covered with foam and tape, all edges and barrel blanketed, but it would still hurt to be on the receiving end. He looked around, suspecting a set-up, but Quistis had long before learned to cover her tracks. He slowly walked around using his gunblade to peek into the thick foliage and using his nose to detect hints of jasmine, which did not grow in the training center.

Grinning at her plan, which did involve covering her scent, she set it into motion. She'd fashioned an impromptu ghillie suit from the plants nearby and her whip already looked much like the ubiquitous vines, so she was well camouflaged. His head snapped almost in time with the dry stick she'd broken between her fingers while crouched in the brush. Seifer immediately drew his attention elsewhere when he didn't see anything, suspecting an ambush.

Quistis had been counting on him overthinking the situation. She leapt out into the open casting a mid-level ice spell that would do little else but make him flinch and angry, but it bought her the opening she needed to send Save the Queen lassoing around his ankle. She pulled, hard, and sent him sprawling into the dirt. Managing another blow to his side before he got up, Quistis darted into the flora again.

Her plan was one of straight guerilla warfare. Frontal assaults were suicidal, keeping a safe distance devoured her energy, and magical attacks were a mixed bag. She knew him well, but in battle it didn't matter much. His eyesight was keen, olfactory was borderline canine, and reaction times superhuman. His one deficiency was hearing, which was simply average. In the training center, with so much ambient noise, Quistis could move around with impunity using only minimal amounts of caution. That one deficiency didn't make for much of an advantage though; Quistis thought that at this point anyone who landed a hit to Seifer was both extremely skilled and lucky. Well, at least momentarily, since they were also about to be very badly maimed.

Some old author talked about knowing yourself and your enemy as if it made it so that you shouldn't fear the results of battle. It was obvious Seifer had never been his enemy.

He was laughing, _laughing_, at her. Prowling around near where she last entered the jungle, he clearly wished for Hyperion's cutting edges to chop away at the undergrowth. He looked for flattened leaves and bent trunks to signal her passing and tried to anticipate where she would emerge next, ignoring the staring ranks of cadets

Fortunately, he saw the next lash and stepped back out of the way, just before he heard it crack in front of his face. He quickly determined its origin and crashed through the plants where he expected to find her, pulling at suspicious vines left and right. Seifer walked right past where she lay, hidden in the ferns and leaf litter.

Of course there's your plan and then there's what happens when Seifer happens to your plan…

As soon as she stood at a crouch, he turned and swept down on her, forgoing his gunblade, which was rendered next to useless without a cutting edge in the undergrowth. Almost as useless as a whip at close range. She quickly fisted a second hand over the whip's length, about a meter from the hilt, and used it defensively. Seifer was too fast for her to make use of it, and he grabbed a handful of her suit and threw her into the shorter grass with little effort.

She rolled when she hit the ground, but it still bit painfully into her shoulder. He swung a wide arc meant to sweep her legs and she jumped away, narrowly escaping by stepping back, but his lunge that followed with a second spin only a millisecond later caught her full in the chest.

The breath exited her body in a sudden whoosh when she slammed into the tree. She struggled to track his movement. Quistis couldn't catch her breath enough to cast a spell, so she stumbled back into the underbrush to regroup.

Seifer swung with a force that would have cleft the tree had his gunblade not been wrapped. Quistis ducked just in time, kicked him in the shoulder where the jarred-bone sensation after making contact with the tree still stung. Strafing to his left, she caught a whirling attack with her whip wrapping around the weapon, but the impact knocked her to her knees, skidding several feet while still holding on to the whip at both ends. He tore Hyperion away with a fierce yank and pulled Save the Queen with it, sending Quistis falling toward him.

He shoved her down into the dirt with his foot.

For a while Quistis lay there, panting, regaining her equilibrium and strength. They looked at each other, sweating, hearts beating rapidly, before Seifer offered her his hand.

She spoke once she was able.

"Again."

He lifted her off the ground with one hand. "You're getting faster," he said.

She healed herself and then they repeated the skirmish.

: : :

So it went for the better part of an hour. Then they separated to shower in respective locker rooms, Seifer went back to his dorm, and Quistis drove into Balamb town to collect their dinners and a bottle, no, make that two bottles of wine.

She reflected on the day during her drive.

Aidan had been less than happy to discover Quistis' undergarments on Seifer's coffee table, and he'd said as much. He begrudgingly ceded that Seifer seemed to be an honorable man, at least with concerns to Quistis, and he even talked about how he made him realize that by suspecting Quistis of cheating on him with Seifer, he hadn't trusted and respected her as much as he should have. In the end, despite how backwards it seemed to her, he ended up apologizing to her after she spent the night with another man. It made her feel even worse about the previous night.

Things grew very awkward when he asked her how they could build trust and comfort and she had no answer but 'be more like Seifer,' which she thankfully didn't verbalize. He seemed mollified when she told him that it could happen with time and with him taking an interest in her pursuits, intellectual and otherwise. Aidan promised her that he would then asked if they could have dinner together.

Quistis gently told him that she had made plans already, and told him again, when he suggested that they do something after. She couldn't tell him that she intended to spend the evening with Seifer again, and the fact that she could see he already suspected but didn't ask about it, ate away at her. She kissed him then and then told him to expect her for dinner on Monday at seven.

She left him happier than when she found him. He even began chattering excitedly about his research, thanked her for supporting it through him, and went back to it. Maybe he felt better, but she felt worse, somehow feeling less wanted.

Then she picked up the dossier on the man whom she was expected to convince to support Garden and walked with guilt-slouched shoulders to get ready to be punished by the man at the heart of her shame. Quistis needed his support for the guilt she felt for coming to him for his support. The thought was enough to make her laugh, but the tear at the end of her mirth wasn't a joyous one.

: : :

The car pulled into an upscale family style diner. Quistis walked across the street to a wine merchant and picked up two bottles of red wine: a Barolo and a Barbaresco, both made from grapes in the nebbiolo family, which would complement the rich, carb-heavy food she was going to pick up at the restaurant. Across the street she paid for the meal and took it back out to the car in a crock that she'd brought with her.

Delicious scents and the parting of the clouds had her in better spirits on the way home. She rolled down the window and took in the smell of the sea breeze and the air that had warmed during the day. Sunlight glittered off the gentle waves and she sighed a contented sigh.

: : :

She was at Seifer's door less than fifteen minutes later, ringing the doorbell with her hip because she had her hands full with the food and wine. Seifer took the food and drink from her graciously and then not-so-graciously shut the door on her before she could step in.

"Ass," she laughed, when he opened the door again moments later.

He grinned. "It takes a nice one to be one, they say."

She slapped the aforementioned anatomy, harder than was necessary, especially because he'd fallen on it when they were training. Quistis frowned playfully. "Hey, are you calling me an ass?"

"No."

"Why not? Mine's not half bad either."

It was funny how the guilt disappeared when she was around him.

Seifer laughed. "Okay, fair enough." He changed the subject, shaking his head. "Smells good. Where did you go?"

"Pelican's Landing."

Seifer had taken the crock and set it on the table, lifting its lid and examining the contents, he nodded his approval. It was nothing fancy, but then, neither was he. A thick red sauce covered a shell-like pasta which was filled with a variety of cheeses and spice, chicken and shellfish were cut into the mix, along with chunks of mushrooms and peppers. Quistis threw the dossier on the table in the living room. He put out some place settings as she poured the wine into glasses, then Seifer used a serving spoon to ladle out generous helpings of the pasta.

As he was preparing the table, he asked, "How'd things go with Aidan?"

"Better than expected. He apologized to me after I spent the night with you." She shook her head. "Can you believe that?"

Seifer shrugged. "Why not? You didn't do anything wrong."

She sat down and took a bite, chewing slowly. "I know, but it still feels wrong. Shouldn't I be staying with him? Why don't I feel a desire to, or even feel comfortable with the idea?"

"I can't answer that question for you. If it feels wrong, then don't do it." Sometimes he made things so simple.

"It doesn't feel wrong when I do it, just when I think about it later, in context."

He shrugged again. "Then either don't do it or don't think about it." Too simple. "Why do you feel guilty anyway? What do you think you owe him that you aren't giving him?"

Setting down her fork, she looked up at him. "I don't know. The truth, I guess, about whether or not I'm capable of having the feelings I have for you with him." Seifer looked uncomfortable. "You know what I mean," she added quickly.

"Well, are you?" he asked, almost always head-on with his dealings with any issue. Quistis stared out the window, not answering.

"I keep thinking that with enough time with you I can learn how to feel and maybe act the same way with others."

He nodded slowly. They ate silently for a while.

After some time, he raised his glass and waited for her to do the same.

"To destroying the monument to all our sins," he toasted. Quistis wasn't sure what he meant, but clinked her glass to his and drank anyway. She watched him over her glass as she drank and tried to read his expression. It was inscrutable even to her. With Seifer though, if you waited long enough, his thoughts would come to surface. She was patient.

As they continued their meal though, he didn't share what was on his mind.

"What are you thinking about?" she finally asked.

His stare was level. "I'm thinking that maybe you're going about this the wrong way. I'm thinking your comfort and familiarity with me is a crutch that will prevent you from developing the same or similar feelings for anyone else. More time away from me would probably do you well."

Quistis was struck silent for a while. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not _trying _to say anything, I fucking said it already. How can you expect to grow comfortable or happy around someone you're so seldom actually _around_?"

"If you don't want to be around me, just say so." Only the few rejections and setbacks she'd faced in her life seemed to occupy her mind now, and they filled it, crowding out all of the accolades, warm friendships, and tender moments.

He stood up quickly, eyes intense. "Damn it, Quistis!" he yelled. "Stop being so fucking melodramatic!" He started to pace in front of the kitchen window, rubbing his scar. She bit her bottom lip. "I'm not tossing you aside. Shit... You say that you want to have something like what we have with someone else, and you don't see me brooding about you wanting to **leave** me, do you? I like what we have and I think you do too. If you felt his way with others, I think you'd be happier, and I think you want that. You want something, sometimes you have to work for it. Want to be comfortable with something, or someone? Expose yourself to what you want. Even if it scares you."

Rolling some remaining shells around her bowl, she nodded. "You're right. You're always right. …Almost" She finished her glass of wine and refilled it.

Seifer sat back down and refilled his bowl.

"What if I can't do it?"

"What, change how you feel? Nobody can make a decision to feel something that they don't, only to be happy or not with how they feel and what they have," he returned.

"What if, what if…" Seifer mocked. "Sometimes you can't analyze something so much that you get an answer, not even you, brainiac. Sometimes you just need to go fucking see for yourself. Gemba."

She smiled warmly at him. "When did you grow so wise?"

"A good teacher and a thousand mistakes give you a lot of opportunities to learn."

"You're a good man, Seifer. I wish you weren't so hard on yourself; that's my job."

He snorted. "And the pot calls the kettle black." He pushed his bowl to the middle of the table and leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass before finishing it and pouring another.

Quistis pushed her hair back behind her ears. "You'll make a woman really happy someday."

"I make _lots _of women happy, almost every day."

She laughed. "Me most of all."

Leaving her seat, she walked to where he sat, slipped behind him and pressed her hands into his shoulders, massaging the knots, tension, and pain away. He leaned forward allowing her to leverage her elbows down his back. The realization that she could physically feel his tension, his pain, and the power he had was a shocking one. It wasn't like her touching him was a rarity, it wasn't even the first time she'd worked on his shoulders and back, but it felt that way. Less a duty and more a gift.

To push more deeply, she leaned into him. Her hair spilled over him and he made contented sounds from his diaphragm and throat. Quistis had an almost astounding vocabulary, but when it came to expressions of emotion or gratitude, there was seldom any words she could summon, and often found she needed to speak with her actions. In a reversal of stereotypical gender roles, Seifer definitely did not have this problem. He captured the back of her head to hold her in place, fingers splayed in her hair, and kissed her on the cheek.

"I love you, you know that Quistis?"

She stopped suddenly and he laughed. "Don't freak out. I thought maybe you didn't know," he continued. "You're well-loved, by all of your friends, but I'm willing to bet most of them are too afraid of how you'd react to say it to you." He shrugged, which lifted her nearly off the ground, as much as she was leaning on him. "I figure everyone should hear it once and a while. I know you won't say it back and I don't expect you to. Just thought you needed to hear it..."

Quistis wrapped her arms around his neck, rocking back and forth for a time, and he put a hand on her arm.

Love was an inevitable, or perhaps omnipresent, component between people who had spent their entire lives together, fought against each other, and for the same causes. They'd watched each other nearly die on several occasions, had even taken the news of the other's death, but they saved each other. More times than they knew.

When Seifer stood, she slid off his back. He left the table as it was, most of the food had been eaten, the bowls scraped clean. She grabbed the other bottle of wine, the Barolo, and their glasses and walked to the living room.

Seifer sat on the side of the couch and took his glass when Quistis handed it to him. He picked up the folder on the politician in the other hand.

"So, what have you found out about this guy?"

"Other than his propensity for blonde girlfriends, not much. He lives outside Deling City with his wife of eight years. Grew up in a family that made it big in industry, pioneering ways of incorporating para-magical items to increase the efficiency of manufacturing processes. He was basically a trust-fund baby, but he's taken the family reins of the business and has started several charitable foundations for the homeless and destitute."

Seifer thought. "Almost sounds like competition to Garden, but you can certainly leverage that interest with ours. Does he have any kids of his own?"

"No, but it looks like they may be expecting."

"Okay, that's good."

"Why's that?"

"You may want to point out that children enrolled at Garden are far more likely to survive in times of war than in any of the conscripted armies or navies."

"And that it provides a better liberal arts education than most private schools," she added.

He nodded.

Eventually she sidled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, brushing her fingers along his leg as she moved her hand along her own thigh. Seifer captured her hand and held it, looking at her.

"You practicing?"

Quistis looked puzzled. "What?"

"For your mission. Lightly making 'incidental,'" He lifted her hand. "Contact like this is a great way to see how effective you've been at making advances."

"Oh." A pause. "Seifer, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." He took a long drink of the wine.

"How can you talk about love so casually?"

He frowned. "Casually? Just because I told you I love you doesn't mean it was flippantly done and it doesn't mean I can only say it in the context of presumably unending romance. If I couldn't say it to you, seriously, but not gravely, then to whom could I say it?"

She considered for a moment, rubbing her thumb along his hand that she held. "Matron. You could say it to her. To family." Quistis stopped for a moment and then turned to look at his face. "Have you talked to her recently?"

Seifer tried to wave his hand dismissively, but found it was still in her grasp. He frowned. "You and I are closer than most siblings and yes, I talk to Matron every week."

On something akin to premonition, she set down her glass. "Then why does she always ask me when you'll come down with the rest of us to see her?"

Her eyes couldn't find a resting place on his face. His eyes were turned away and squinted, forehead wrinkled in an unknown, unknowable disgust, jaws clenching and unclenching with each breath torn roughly from the room. Painfully his hand tightened around hers, until she couldn't bear it, and she decided to go into his solitary oblivious fury to rescue him from his mysterious shame and self-loathing.

"Seifer, you're hurting me."

Quistis' voice seemed to snap him from his reverie and he blushed then blanched, trying to look at her but failing. He slowly released her hand. She pursued it.

Edea was always a soft spot for Seifer and he would be embarrassed at not paying her the respects and affections he felt she deserved.

"You don't tell her you love her, do you?" To her surprise, he didn't respond. She sighed, feeling foolish and ashamed. "I'm sorry, I know it's not any of my business. We don't have to talk about it, I just never thought I'd hear you s-"

"-No. I don't tell her." He scratched between his eyes and sighed deeply. "It's been years. Maybe I should talk about it."

She filed the comment away for quick recollection. "Do you? Love her, I mean?"

He snorted. "Now there's a hell of a question for you to ask me… There are three Edea Kramers. Matron, my mother, whom I will always love. The sorceress, my tormentor, whom I will always hate…"

"And the third?"

"And the third ensures that I can't ever consider her to be one of the other two. We're dropping this now," he declared suddenly. His voice had turned a more serious timbre, which said that if it needed to say anymore on the subject, it would be on the decidedly violent side.

"As long as you can drop your guilt."

"I will as soon as I deserve to be forgiven."

She frowned. "When will that be? Everyone has forgiven you already."

"_I_ haven't. And I haven't deserved it. Never will."

Quistis' blue eyes grew inflamed. She slapped him, hard.

"Seifer. That was the single most arrogant thing you've ever said, and that's one hell of an accomplishment. How dare you think you're beyond redemption and that our forgiveness means nothing?" She searched out his green eyes until they met her own. When they did, she was shocked to see that tears were falling from them.

With a pleading look in his watering eyes, he silently begged her for all the comfort a confused and hurt little boy needed. He also told her to stay away, because he didn't want to be consoled.

"We were lovers then, back in the time Ultimecia possessed her."

Quistis was unable to suppress a gasp at his hidden confession. She might have suspected earlier if either Edea or Seifer had ever let on, or if she had questioned the strange union between this former knight and his sorceress, at once a comforting mother, domineering source of hazy, subtly twisted ambition, and exotic vision of enticing youthful beauty.

"Just how am I supposed to forgive myself for that and how can I get past it even if I could? Do you know how hard it is to even look at Cid? I can't look at her. Never again," he nearly sobbed, hands and head shaking. An unflappable and endlessly strong man, now made broken and powerless against the forces of rekindled memories and the way that blending all good things became an unspeakable abomination.

Seifer shrunk away from her comforting hands. She had no words for him, but her hands demanded to be heard. They pulled him, struggling weakly against her, into her arms. Then they guided his yielding head to her chest, where it remained, and she stroked his hair, hoping that she could sap away his guilt just as he had done for her countless times. Evasive words were captured and set free, just as his breathing grew even.

"Some things require more than just one person's strength to conquer, even yours, big guy. I'll be here to help you through." She smiled down at him and he smirked shyly back, embarrassed by his show of accepting comfort and especially by doing so on her bosom. She didn't seem to notice or care. Quistis was just happy to be strong for him for once.

"Why don't we just watch a movie?" she asked.

He got up, and by silent agreement, they quickly finished the remainder of the wine bottle, grinning with deep purple lips. They watched a film which was eminently forgettable, but was well able to make them forget the travails of their lives, and soon sleep threatened to overtake them.

Suddenly, he asked a question. "You ever junction sleep to your status defense to try to stay awake longer?"

Quistis laughed. She stretched as she stood. "No, can't say that I have. Does it work?"

"No." He yawned.

She waved a small object at him. A toothbrush, he realized after a moment's thought, and then joined her in the evening bathroom rituals. Most of them, anyway. They weren't _literally _joined at the hip.

They walked slowly to the bedroom where she made herself comfortable in his large shirt and he shed his. True to her word, she pushed Seifer into the bed first and followed to be on the outside. He grappled her close to him and she let it slide; he often gave her just what he needed. She lay in silence waiting for the darkness to swallow her thoughts, but one flew unbidden and refused to be taken.

"Seifer?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

"I know." The smirk was audible.

She elbowed him in the ribs which did nothing to stop his chuckling. "Ass."

"Thanks. I work out."

Quistis giggled and turned. She swept her face toward his and pressed a light kiss. It caught the side of his lips and they twitched slightly at the touch.

"Go the fuck to sleep, Seifer."

They laughed.

: : :

Author's Note (again): I didn't like this one at first, but it's grown on me. Seems like a lot happened in this chapter, though. More to come soon, as I can't seem to stop writing this.


	5. Chapter 5

Theirs was a recollection of each other that forsook other memories. She somehow forced her guardians to leave her reminiscences of him alone; he seldom ever took one, so that the preservation of the liquid quality that the morning sunlight on her hair might be made along with the bubbling rarity of her laugh. She could pick through each unkind phrase and recall just the words he'd said to realize her value; he forgot every lesson she ever taught him, but he tried to forget them as often as possible, so they were with him almost always. She didn't seem to know that there were other men when he was around; he kept the picture of her genial, intelligent beauty as the measure up to which all others would invariably fall short.

He was an unworthy steward of her treasured memoirs and she was a fountain of kinder perspective on his own.

: : :

Seifer did not sleep comfortably on his side, so he soon let go of Quistis and flipped to his back. She was already sleeping, but having grown used to his warmth, she followed him. Half on him and half on the bed, Quistis lay peacefully. Seifer found slumber shortly thereafter.

Having neither the need nor ability to move when sleeping this night, as he was already huddled close to the succor of another human being, the energy Seifer always seemed to need to expend in the night was set loose by his roving hands.

"You know, when I told you that my ass wasn't half bad, I figured you'd take my word for it."

He woke on hearing her words to discover that he was cupping her behind. Removing his hand and attempting to shrug, which is very difficult when you're horizontal, he said, "You know me. I always have to see for myself." She shifted slightly, to lift herself from his arm, then rested her head next to his. "Sorry. I move around a lot when I sleep," Seifer finished, lamely.

"It's just my body. No need to be sorry."

"Well, until recently that body was occupied by Quistis Trepe, the world's biggest prude and probably its only 24 year old virgin: so who are you and what have you done with her?"

Her breath was sweet and warm when it brushed his face, voice low and sultry. "The woman of your dreams. Why don't you explore the rest of me? You can take your time, I have all night." She slowly traced her leg up along his and her hand threatened to meet it in the middle. Seifer didn't flinch.

"For someone who claims to have no sexual experience, you sure can fake it well."

Her alluring grin was lost in the night. "Thank you, but for you, I won't have to fake it. I'll bet you could bring me there three times in one night." She bit at his ear.

He knew she was just trying to distract his runaway mind, but he worried at how far she would go to do so.

"What makes you think you're the woman of my dreams?" Previously bright in the empty room, his voice was now as dark as the night surrounding them.

Quistis inched her face away from his, squinting in the blackness to search his expression. There was something in the way he spoke his last words that was eerie and ominous and it made her stop her charade. In his voice there came the realization that what she was doing to drive his mind from painful thoughts might actually be circling him back to them. His dreams had been warped by a woman close to him and he didn't need to have another pseudo-family member travel the same path, even superficially.

She stroked his face and felt the stubble brought by two days without shaving. He pushed her hand away.

"I'm sorry…" She murmured in his ear. Idly, she wondered if his past is what made him avoid attempting any sexual advances on her and Selphie. He'd been with most every other pretty girl in and nearby Garden. Quistis felt herself rise up with Seifer's deep sigh.

He pulled her more tightly to him. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

He trailed his fingers through her long hair.

"Where do you come out with that stuff anyway? I've never even heard stories of you flirting. Well, I've heard _stories_, but that's all they were."

"I don't know. It just seems like something I need to practice and I wanted to help you forget, or get past…" She stopped. "I know you'll point it out if I do something wrong and you won't take it the wrong way or hurt me."

His quick laugh jostled her. "You never do anything wrong when you're trying, but it's all a matter of context, whether you're able to read the person and situation well enough to see if what you try will be well met. You might feel comfortable trying with me, but I'm not good practice if I don't react realistically. Knowing that I won't take it the wrong way or hurt you makes it a bad experiment." Seifer was silent for a moment. "I think you read people well. You shouldn't have any troubles when you attempt in the outside world. What about what you said? You could have made a sailor blush."

"Between you, Irvine, and Selphie I've heard enough innuendo that I don't think I'll ever blush again. I'm so desensitized, I could spout or listen to just about anything and not bat an eyelash."

"Selphie, huh? She's a little fucking nymph. Who'd have guessed?"

"Irvine, evidently. I'll probably get another earful from her tomorrow about not testing her theory," Quistis commented dryly.

He turned to her. "What theory is that?"

"That I'm missing out on a lot by not sleeping with you."

"You _are_ sleeping with me. Well, were. Up until I copped a feel."

She hit him lightly on the arm. "You know what I mean, you idiot. Hyne… You don't have to defuse a situation that has no ignition."

Seifer said nothing. She followed his lead and soon they both fell asleep again.

: : :

Certain physiological responses are uncontrollable. Even though Seifer was a stalwart stoic when it came to Quistis' and most others' advances, false or otherwise, particular combinations of stimuli and circumstances made him seem less than unaffected when the morning came around. For one, it was morning, which invariably meant a nearly full bladder, which happened to be under pressure from a certain blonde instructor who lay on the other blonde instructor.

That pressure also contributed to a peculiar restriction of blood flow. Add to this the blissfully shut down cognizant mind, distinctly feminine smells, and a fully recharged reserve of testosterone, and you get an uncontrollable… Physiological response.

While the sun, Quistis, and the _rest_ of Seifer, were just starting to rise, a loud knock sounded at the door.

Cursing loudly, Seifer pushed Quistis off to the side, thought about, and then thought better of, putting on his shirt that she was wearing, and padded to the door quickly. The knocking never let up. He looked through the viewer.

Squall.

"Open the door Almasy."

With another curse, Seifer slid the door open. He didn't say anything as Squall looked at him with his hand poised to knock again, too short furry coat riding even higher.

"Seifer. Didn't think you'd ever be quite _this _happy to see me," Squall noted, with reference to the other man's circulatory problem. Seifer glared at him.

"Something I can do for you Commander?"

Squall smirked and let himself in. "Nah. I'm afraid I don't swing that way." He sat down and Seifer followed at a respectable distance. "Zell's going to be pissed," he mused.

"About what?" Seifer growled.

"We have a pool going about when or whether Quistis will sleep with you. Oh, don't look so offended. Zell's out 30,000 gil now. He said 'Quis has too much taste to stoop that low.'"

Seifer glared. "We haven't slept together and don't intend to."

Squall raised a skeptical eyebrow. "No?"

"No. What makes you think that?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look, I know she's here. She wasn't in her dorm or classroom and she's not on a mission. Hyne knows she wouldn't be with what's-his-name…"

"So, you can't find her. So what?"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Almasy. She spends more time with you than everyone else combined. You obviously just got out of bed. You missed our sparring session. You smell like Jasmine. And you either had one hell of a sweet dream…" He paused suggestively. "Or Quistis is still in your bed." Squall smirked an irritating copy of Seifer's own.

"Brilliant inductive reasoning. Want a fucking cookie?"

"No, thanks. Just ate."

"Yeah, well, Zell's going to be the one to win your little bet. Much as that pisses me off…"

"Sure, sure... Everyone can see, except Zell, that you two love each other. It's only a matter of time until you see it too."

"What are you, Garden matchmaker now? Is there an actual reason you came here, other than to falsely accuse me of taking advantage of my best friend?"

"Such harsh words. You'll wake up eventually. You're both missing out on a lot." Squall paused. Seifer made a pantomimed gagging reflex at the thought of the Commander in his relationship and acting like it was the model of epic love.

"Did it ever occur to you," Seifer bit out, voice low and dangerous. "That love may be the reason we _don't_ consummate the relationship?"

Squall gave one of his enigmatic expressions that seemed to say, 'Of course I thought of that. Before you did, in fact. This is all part of my brilliant scheme about which I usually seem almost blithely uninterested. …Or is it?' Then he shrugged.

"…Whatever. The Headmaster wants to see you. Mission, I think. A good one. I'll cover your classes." He paused again. "He's expecting you. Just make sure you take care of your little problem before you see him."

Squall got up and walked toward the door just as Quistis exited the bedroom, clothes in hand, toward the bathroom. His head tracked her halfway around the room, until it was intercepted by Seifer's angry stare.

"Good morning Commander," Quistis said, passing by in Seifer's shirt. Only his shirt.

"Instructor."

With another eyebrow raised pointedly at his rival, Squall left.

As soon as the door slid shut, Quistis opened the door to the bathroom, and peeked her head out, grinning maniacally. The shower was running, but she was still dressed, in the loose sense of the word described above. Seifer stared at her, angry, then vehement, as she started giggling, then chuckling, then cackling hysterically.

"What?"

Between her fits of laughter, she managed to say, "N-nothing. And you used to say _I _had it bad for Squall… You sure you shouldn't hop in the shower first? A cold one would do you well, especially if you should run into the Commander on your way to see the Headmaster." She sputtered and giggled as Seifer fumed silently. "You should take care of your 'little problem.'"

"One: it's gone. Hyne... You know, it happens in the morning, and with your little stunt… Two: It's not a 'problem,' the opposite, really. And three: there's nothing _little_ about it."

"Oh-ho! So, Selphie was right was she?"

"You'll never find out," he growled.

She pouted. "Even though it was 'my little stunt' that brought it on?"

Seifer stood. "I have to go see Cid."

"Does this mean no breakfast?"

"No time. I'd say you could make it yourself, but I don't have anything in this place insured." Quistis narrowed her eyes, but remained smiling. "Have some cereal. It's in the cupboard above the sink. You have a class to teach in an hour anyway."

"I brushed my teeth."

He turned to her. "So?"

"So, can I at least have my good morning kiss?" She appeared to be serious.

Frowning, Seifer tilted his head to the side. He wondered how much of the conversation with Squall she'd overheard.

"What about Aidan? And the guilt you're bound to feel later?"

"What of it? I just a want a simple kiss. If I feel any guilt, I'll work through it, like I always do."

"…Why?"

She shrugged.

"Don't tell me you've never been kissed and 'just want to see what it's like.'"

Quistis rolled her eyes and walked out to meet him. "Of course not. But I've never kissed you, not really."

He was growing more and more suspicious. "Why is it important to you?"

"It's an expression. You know how limited my words can be with people who mean a lot to me." She reached out to grasp his hands.

"Not an expression shared among friends."

"No?"

"No. Not people who will remain friends, anyway. They either become more or nothing at all."

Her eyes lowered then slowly made their way back up to his. "You know, I don't have a clandestine motive here. There's nothing I'm trying to discover, nothing to practice, nothing to experiment, nothing from which I want to distract you, and nothing to hide from you." She stopped, taking in the rapid movements of his jade eyes and the confused expression of ambivalence. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"No," he admitted.

"But you don't think our friendship could survive one kiss? Aren't you, aren't _we_, strong enough to hear what would be said?"

Seifer exhaled. Slowly, he bent his head down, far enough that they met at eye level. He saw how her eyes darted from his own to his lips, and it unsettled him. Her two cerulean worlds eclipsed and lips parted as he slowly made his way to meet her mouth, watching all the while, looking for a reason. A reason to continue or a reason not to.

Reason, it seemed, was lost.

At first he felt her breath as she waited. He finally closed over her with a gentle pressure, neither chaste nor passionate, and she responded, with more articulation than he'd ever experienced in a kiss. This was perhaps due to the intense amount of focus he'd placed on the moment. Her movement was slow and only marginally deeper, but the flexible muscles of her bottom lip seemed to speak volumes. It was unfortunate that it seemed to be in a language that neither had much expertise in deciphering, though it seemed they could speak it well enough. It wasn't quite like speaking in tongues, but almost.

He lifted his head, tilted slightly to the side, and saw her eyes flutter open. Quistis smiled.

"Thanks. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Seifer was flustered. He didn't like feeling confused and he hated deeply analyzing things that could have multiple meanings or none at all. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, sure… Anytime."

Quistis raised her brow.

"Really?" She laughed.

"You know what I mean," Seifer groused, scratching his scar.

"Because if you liked it that much, we could have a little problem on our hands."

He shoved her toward the bathroom, laughing. "Just go take your shower. I have to leave. Should I expect you to barge in again tonight?"

"Probably not. I told Aidan I'd have dinner with him."

"I see."

Quistis walked back into the bathroom and shut the door. "So, it's fun, is it?"

"What is?"

"Sex. You told me it was fun." Her voice carried from the shower.

He found he had shout back to be heard. "Can be, not always. Especially the first time. That's almost always shit."

"Ah. Well, maybe I'll find out tonight."

Seifer frowned. "You think you're ready?"

"I think so."

He said nothing else and started to walk away to his room to change, then turned around remembering he needed to shave. His hair wilted almost immediately in the subtropical environment of his bathroom.

"Gotta shave," he said, then fished out his razor and tried to defog the mirror.

Shaving completed, Seifer put on some deodorant, and started to fix his hair.

"I'm sure you can find a beautiful woman to share your bed tonight. Maybe she'll take care of your lit-"

He left the room, whistling, and having just turned on the cold water at the sink full blast. Closing the door behind him did little to drown her black oaths and curses. Seifer licked his drying lips as he put on his instructor's uniform and found they vaguely tasted of cranberries. He licked them again.

Quistis met him when he walked back out, still drying her hair, and trying vainly to stay mad at him for the scalding water that left her slightly red even still.

"I can see you at lunch? I want to find out about your mission," she asked.

"Sure. See you at thirteen hundred."

She cleared her throat. "So. Are we okay?"

"Yeah. Of course. I _**will**_ always be there for you, remember? It would take a whole lot more than the usual to keep us apart. Hell, our friendship miraculously survived after we tried to kill each other, countless battles against others, the near end of the world, all my trivial conquests and more significant faults, and your boyfriends and bossiness." Seifer stopped. "It was wrong of me to doubt you. I'm sorry."

"Seifer… Don't apologize. I'm the one who needs to keep my actions in check. Sometimes I just want to help you the way you help me."

He nodded and ran his hand along her jawline. "You're doing fine," he said, surprised by the emotion and sincerity he felt and heard in his voice after just a short time of her efforts. "I have to go. Later."

She combed back some wayward hairs on his head, rose on her tip-toes, and kissed him on the cheek, with her hand on the other. He waved then she finished drying her hair.

: : :

The walk to Balamb Garden's sole elevator was never a lonely one, even at not quite 7:00 in the morning. Seifer's presence tended to have a polarizing effect: the majority of students were repulsed ever so slightly, as if by magnetism, others, like Selphie at the moment, seemed irresistibly drawn to him. He swerved to avoid her, but she is rather like a guided missile, and she speedily found her target.

"Heya, Seifie!"

"What is it, Messenger Girl?"

She invaded his personal space. As usual. "You smell nice… Like tea, or-"

"Jasmine."

"Hmm… No, I was thinking Quistis, but close!" Her eyes were alarmingly green, and scrutinizing. He almost flinched. Almost. "I didn't know you had a feminine side."

"I usually leave it in my dorm. Later."

He stepped on the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor, narrowly escaping Selphie's nearly inescapable begging about the Garden Festival Committee. Seifer tapped his foot as he waited for the lift to reach its destination. When the doors finally opened, he swept past Xu, without so much as a word, knocked on Cid's door, and let himself in.

The Headmaster of Balamb Garden was reviewing recent reports seated at his desk. Seifer saluted briskly when Cid's eyes looked up to him. Cid waved him over.

"Seifer. Please sit down." Cid stopped to pull down on his sweater vest. "A request for SeeD has come in that I believe you will greatly appreciate. Esthar has been having increasing trouble with its monster population since the Lunar Cry. Military and regular SeeD outings keep most of the lesser monsters in check, but the cry produced a larger crater than before. In the crater, some of the more powerful monsters have been hiding and reproducing, especially as more of the lesser creatures are killed. To compound this problem, Esthar's shielding system is failing against more calculated attacks by various dragons, behemoths, and if reports are to be believed, WEAPONs.

"We couldn't afford to send higher level SeeDs before, but now it is essential. You're the best man to lead this mission, and I figured you would take a personal interest in being a part of it. You asked several times to be on the earlier Esthar monster sweeps, correct?"

Seifer nodded.

"You may take three rank 20 or better SeeDs, with exception of the Commander and any other instructors. It's objective to eliminate as many of the monsters as possible, notably the WEAPON, if it exists, and destroy the network of tunnels that function as the monsters' homes. Do you accept?"

"Yes sir. With pleasure." They shook hands, and then smiles became laughter.

"Son, I hope you find, and _accept_, the redemption you seek there."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Some apologies –

I admit to my inadequacies in the subject of fashion. So if the descriptors are dull, boring, or plain wrong, forgive me.

Also, a passage near the end of this chapter is awkward. It was awkward to write and I suspect it will be awkward to read, but I feel it is important for the story and to provide a meaningful contrast. I think it well captures the mood and mindset I'm trying to convey. I don't know. You tell me.

I hope you enjoy this almost as much as I enjoy writing it. :)

: : :

Cid concluded the mission briefing with a timetable estimate of at least two weeks, beginning the following day. Seifer was to contact the Estharian official on arrival and every 48 hours following to report on his team's progress. The Ragnarok would leave at 7:00 the following day. Squall would cover his gunblading class and Quistis would fill in on his casting techniques hour.

"Is the Sorceress an available squad member for this assignment?" Seifer questioned.

Cid nodded. "Your other members?"

"Dincht and Kinneas."

"Very good. One member is to be on the periphery at all times should revival of other teammates become necessary. Fighting a WEAPON is as close to a suicide mission as we've allowed, Mr. Almasy, but I have absolute faith in your team." The Headmaster paused. "Good hunting."

"Thank you, sir."

Seifer saluted and walked out of the office, shut the door quietly behind him, and made sure Xu was looking when he blew her a kiss for good measure. He firmly believed it was a good portent to have at least one Garden faculty or administrator angry at him before going off on a mission. Whistling tunelessly, he walked to his classroom about 30 minutes before class was set to start.

It no longer surprised him that there were students there waiting for him, even this early. He was resigned to the fact that the whispers would reach a sudden crescendo just before he'd enter, and might be followed by some giggles or lower whispers, shy stares and meek smiles. Often he would smile politely back, but he just as frequently didn't respond at all. He hadn't imagined in his time as a student that he would feel quite so much sympathy for Quistis.

The girls in his unjunctioned magic use class were staring and talking even more than usual. There were more of them than usual, come to mention it. His usual brusque demeanor and intimidating aura usually kept his version of Trepies from expressing any form of affection. Seifer eyed the group coolly as he unpacked his material from his briefcase.

"So, Instructor Almasy..." one of them began.

"Yes?"

"Retiam tells me she saw Instructor Trepe leaving your room this morning on the way to class."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. And I think I saw her doing the same thing yesterday. Are you two...? You know?" another one finished.

"Are we what, cadet?"

He was completely calm, in a way that totally unnerved his inquisitive students. In his years as a SeeD, Seifer had developed a technique to convey anger without acting on it. Most cadets and SeeDs now knew that the more calm Instructor Almasy sounded, the more painful your imminent punishment was about to be.

He famously responded to his third class' experimentation with water magic that caused an armored SeeD transport full of cadets to float away along a miraculous man-made river that hadn't been in Dollet the day before, certainly not flowing through the elementary school, with a placid "Huh." The carnage that followed was unfit for children's ears. Or adult's.

"Well, it's just... We're rooting for you two, Instructor A! Instructor Remin just isn't right for her." She made a disgusted face.

"Cadet, I'm not going to come down too hard on you for this unsightly rumor-mongering," All the female cadets went white. "But I'll ask you only once to refrain from lecturing me about what's 'right' for a woman who's been a friend to me my whole life and who's been making all the right decisions on her own for that entire time." He sighed. "What we each do outside of class is not your concern, neither is my or Instructor Trepe's love lives."

His students were severely cowed.

Whispered words soon floated from the back. "But, I thought he never stayed with the same girl twice, or ever let them stay overnight." There was an acquired astringency in her voice, not meant to be heard by his ears. Many were angry that if he settled down, the handsome instructor might not 'get around' to them. He glowered and rose from his desk.

The girl who couldn't keep her mouth shut blanched as Seifer walked over to her desk and slammed her terminal shut.

"Maybe you didn't hear me or maybe you've decided that the most important things to learn in Garden are not found in the classroom, but in the nocturnal habits of its Instructors," he breathed, low and quiet. "Either way, you're going to learn more about your chosen field of study, by cleaning and waxing the hallways in the Instructors' wing every night this week. Also, be sure to attend all of Instructor Trepe's and Remin's classes in addition to your regular classload. I'll let them know you'd be happy to assist in their lectures. When you see me again you can tell me where you learned more."

"Y-yes, Instructor Almasy."

"Any other questions about the nightlife of Garden Instructors?" he asked. Silence. "Good. I'll be leaving tomorrow on a long term mission. Instructor Trepe will be taking my place, should you decide you have a question later. Just expect to end up with fewer moving parts than when you ask me."

The remainder of the class period went on without incident.

: : :

"Two weeks?" Quistis asked, between bites of cafeteria salad. "What am I going to do?"

Seifer shrugged and chewed thoughtfully. "Selphie will be here," he said. Quistis made an unpleasant face. "And Squall." Her face contorted even more. Seifer started to grin widely. "And, oh, who was that other person…? Ah, right! Aidan! Your beloved will be here. You can have repeat performances of whatever tragedy or comedy takes place tonight." Seifer winked.

He felt a sharp pain on his leg and cursed Fujin for giving lessons on How to Kick the Shin or Other Bits Below the Waist. Quistis was wearing an innocent smile.

"What will you be doing on the mission?"

"Killing the high-level monsters, destroying their breeding grounds, and looking for a WEAPON."

"A WEAPON came in the Lunar Cry?" She sighed. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't worry about you too much. I mean, if Squall could take out _two_ of them with a party of _three_, then I'm _sure_ you could manage _one_ with a group of _four_…"

Seifer was extremely tempted to return her kick just then, but restrained himself. Barely. His glower softened at her smile and wink.

"You'll be careful?"

"Not particularly." She snaked her hand over his and he squeezed it. "But I'll come back to you. I always come back."

"Yeah. You do, don't you?"

It was hard to directly address the possibility of death when it was so likely. SeeDs covered their concerns with silence, bravado, distraction, or jokes. Sometimes all of the above. Sometimes it leaked out anyway.

"Of course."

"You'd better. I don't want to be stuck teaching a room full of teenage girls swooning over you for the rest of my life."

He snorted. "Small payback for the time I spent the entire period crumpling up poems and love letters to you when I taught your tactics course. Sniveling little bastards didn't stop until I told them the only poetry you enjoyed was poetry in motion. My motion." Seifer made a crude gesture.

Quistis laughed. She looked at him then; a prideful air of content happiness lit her face. Her eyes began to feel dry and burning, heralding a coveted emotion that could only be poorly described if said to be something other than beatific.

It amazed her. What Seifer had become, to her, to himself, and to everyone else, and it fulfilled her that he had wanted, _still wanted_, her to be a part of it. She saw how over the years she had helped shape him. Lapping waters smoothing the stone walls, cutting rivers finding a way down great pinnacles. She would be remiss to not acknowledge just how much he had changed her as well. The brooding, too-analytical, fearful of risk-averse girl was slowly being replaced with a confident, vibrant, relaxed young woman.

She loved him for it. All of it. All of him.

A jade spotlight focused on her, narrowing.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

She smiled and wiped away the rogue tear that had taken leave against advice. "I'm fine. I just…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! I'm going to be all right. This mission is nothing I, we, can't handle. I need to do this…"

She nodded quickly. He watched her pull out her deck of cards and shuffle through them. She extracted one, Laguna's, and opened his bag, placing it inside. Then she reached inside her own bag and revealed four vials.

"Holy Wars," she said. "Left over from Omega WEAPON. If you refine Laguna's card you'll have 100 Heroes too."

Nodding, he looked hard at her. "Thanks."

Quistis cleared her throat. "Who will finish teaching me the art of seduction? My mission's in four days."

"Get some practice in tonight," he reminded her dryly. "You don't need any more instruction. You know what to do and you're good at it. For you, the consummate professional, it will be easy to find the ability to practice what you've learned in the field. With a little luck, you'll bring home the big bucks."

"Save your luck for a bad student who needs it, Instructor."

He smirked, then said, "Okay then: Good luck Quistis." Seifer reached into his jacket breast pocket and produced a keycard. He slid it across the table to her, shrugging. "Copy of my room key. In case you need somewhere to get away while I'm gone."

"Thanks." She mused for a second. "You never did tell me what gets you to cave."

Seifer rolled his eyes. "Come on, Instructor. I'm a guy. There's no great algorithm or internal philosophical debate. It's just the promise of a good time between the sheets with strings that are easily cut."

They ate until they finished, stood together, and he grabbed and deposited their trays. Countless curious eyes tracked their movement. She walked after him toward the training center that held both of the weapons classes they were about to teach. Before they split, just inside the double doors, she turned to him.

"No goodbyes," he said, trying to cut her off before she said anything. She ignored him.

"Will you call me to tell me how things are going and so that I can bitch to you about how boring and miserable things are here without you?"

"I'll try."

She sighed. "I'll miss you."

"I know." He continued before she could hit him, "…I'll miss you too, Trepe."

He then mussed her hair affectionately, which ended up causing quite a stir, as Instructor Trepe walked over to address her class with her hair out of her pins, and some of Instructor Almasy's students looked like they'd just witnessed a dog kissing a cat.

"The fuck are you staring at?" he bellowed at his class as she walked away smiling. "Get into position. Branford maneuvers, now!"

: : :

Quistis was a little preoccupied when the time came to get ready to go with Aidan to Balamb. She was concerned about how things would play out after dinner for Aidan, for Seifer in Esthar, and for her while he was gone. She knew she wouldn't really be alone, but she also knew it would feel like it at times. It was like being asked to hobble along with one leg or express yourself with only half your emotions.

Rinoa had helped her with the outfit for the evening. It was a lucid blue dress, cut to be just above the knees, with folds of extra fabric flowing off the top hem which afforded a generous view of her chest. The pearl earrings were difficult to put in place given the long time that had passed since she'd last worn any. Three inch heeled dark-brown straps rounded out her attire, which was far too summery for the chilly fall nights of seaside Balamb, but was also what Rinoa called "provocative and elegant," Selphie described as "super-duper-mega sexy," and Irvine had christened "hawt." Zell would have concurred had he been able to form a real word.

They all gave her their support and told her not to be nervous. Even Squall had come to see her off. Rinoa dragged him.

"I think it's sooo romantic that you're dressing up like this for Seifer on the night before he leaves!" Selphie squealed.

Zell looked like he was about to deposit fourteen partially digested hotdogs on the floor. Quistis looked shocked. Rinoa and Irvine released a breath they'd been holding, seemingly out of relief.

Rinoa rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh, thank Hyne, Quisty. It's about time you showed that man some skin. He's been patient as a saint with you." Squall smirked.

"Wait... What? I'm not doing this for Seifer. Whatever gave you that idea?" Quistis asked, thoroughly confused.

The others all exchanged glances and the girls pouted. Silence pervaded.

"I mean… Guys, I have a boyfriend. Seifer isn't interested in me like that anyway." Quistis worked on her hair, giving it mild curls.

Selphie piped up. "Honey, _anyone _would be interested in you 'like that' in this dress. Right Irvy?"

Irvine, who could spot an ambush a mile away, and who also very much liked the current arrangement of his anatomy, mumbled like a man possessed. He looked to Zell for help, but the other man just shook his head furiously. Squall's slowly turned from side to side. Selphie rolled her eyes.

"Anyone with balls would, anyway. And Seifer _definitely _meets criteria there," she continued. Irvine elbowed her. Rinoa nodded distractedly before Squall shot her a death glare and it was Quistis' turn to shake her head.

"I appreciate the sentiment everyone, but what Seifer and I have right now works, and I'd like to keep it that way. I'm enjoying being with Aidan right now, so while I'll take your meddling in the good spirit with which it was given, I have to question whether you have any motive beyond this silly bet you have going."

Irvine, Zell, and Rinoa had the decency to blush. Squall was smug in his knowledge that no one would ever suspect him of blabbing. He spoke for the first time that evening as he stood and walked to where Quistis was standing in front of the mirror, playing absently with a plastic card in her hand.

"He's worried about you. You should use that," Squall pointed to the keycard in her hand. "Tonight. Before he goes."

Quistis turned to look at him. "Why should he be worried about me? He's the one going on a dangerous mission." Squall smiled and then walked away. Dumbfounded, she stood there for a few seconds before turning to the rest of the group. "Well? Any other advice?"

Rinoa stared at her feet before looking back up and smiling sheepishly.

"You know what he used to say to me often in Timber? 'Usually you fear because you think you could lose something, but you can't lose what you don't yet have.'" She paused. "Come on. Let's finish your makeup. You need to pick up Aidan soon."

: : :

She reached her boyfriend's door not long after. Quistis was not disappointed by his reaction, which stopped having a verbal component after "Wow…," but paraded on with a bouquet of flowers and a quick kiss. Holding out her arm to him, she smiled, and let him guide her to the Garden car. He'd dressed smartly in a tan blazer over a tie and vest and pleated pants.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I booked us a window table at Pelican's Landing. I know how much you like their food and we've never gone there together." He shrugged, smiling. His thoughtfulness made her smile in return, but it felt a little like disloyalty. It was the place she and Seifer frequented when they had worked up an appetite and weren't afraid to show it to each other.

The drive into Balamb was uneventful apart from the droning quality of the conversation about his research and her classes. Clouds were beginning to line the sky to the east, nearing the shores, promising another nightly downpour.

He asked her about the upcoming weekend, if she wanted to take a trip out to Dollet.

"I'm leaving on a mission Friday. I won't be back until late on Saturday."

"What kind of mission?"

She sighed. "Oh, nothing exciting. Fundraising."

Aidan frowned. "Seems beneath you, but I'm glad it's nothing dangerous. Did you hear that that Cid's sending a team into Esthar tomorrow? Yes, of course you have. They think a WEAPON's been attacking the city." They got out of the car and entered the restaurant. "I'm glad you didn't get selected for that mission."

Quistis bristled. "I was part of a team that defeated Omega, remember?"

He held up his hands. "Woah, I didn't mean anything by it. Any combat mission is dangerous. There's always a possibility of losing you and I don't like to think about that."

"Maybe you have the wrong girlfriend, then." The words escaped before she could stop them. "I'm sorry. I just don't like having my abilities called into question."

They were seated.

"I'm not questioning your abilities. Bad things happen to SeeDs, and WEAPONs are serious business. Besides, Squall was there for protection last time around."

"And Seifer will be there this time." Her eyes went distant. "They are the best and I trained both of them. How come people seem to forget that?"

Aidan grew silent and studied his date after the waitress went off to fetch him a mineral water and her a neat scotch. He admired her graceful neck and her full lips as she sipped at the tumbler. She slumped forward and the arches of her collarbones came to the fore along with a bountiful view of her cleavage.

"I didn't know you drank whiskey," he said.

"I didn't know you didn't," she retorted playfully.

"Dulls the senses."

She snorted. Sometimes that's just what life required, especially for a SeeD.

He seemed to be surprised by the portion sizes being offered around the family-style restaurant, having missed the words 'family-style,' apparently. He was also appalled by the unhealthiness of the high-calorie dishes as well and opted for only a salad. Quistis tried hard to not roll her eyes and feel too hurt and embarrassed that she was about to receive a payaya for one which was meant for two or more.

"The usual." Their waitress winked at her as she set down the pan in front of Quistis. "Where's your other handsome friend, or do you have a new favorite?"

Quistis blushed, but said nothing. The waitress took the hint and left after setting down Aidan's salad. He gazed at her circumspectly.

"'The usual,' huh? All that?"

She glared. "I usually have help."

"From Almasy?"

"Yes Aidan," she nearly hissed. "We train hard. We get hungry and need to eat something substantial." She made a dismissive motion to his dish. "Some of us need the calories because we actually burn them off."

It seemed she couldn't help getting upset. What was new was her inability to hold it in and trading barbs that pierced instead of tickled. She knew it was a low blow to degrade his research focus, but she hated being caught off-guard.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not trying to say things to make you upset."

"I know. And I'm not trying to be a bitch about it. Let's pretend to start over tonight." She chewed on some lobster. "Have your newest grants led to any talks of publication?"

She didn't have to feign interest. He was excited about this project and it showed, making his words stimulating and magnetic. Quistis listened to him until she'd taken her fill of the food and he picked at the remaining leaves on his plate. Aidan was making great strides in his search for improved magic utilization without the use of Guardian Forces. She almost asked him if he'd discussed the matter with Seifer, given his extensive magical skill and abhorrence of memory loss associated with GF use. He refused the bite of shrimp she tried to feed him and laughed when it rolled down his sleeve.

"It's still early," he observed. "Want to go watch a movie?"

"No, I thought we could go back to Garden, and… You know…" She licked her lips, which was superfluous, since even the way she raised her eyebrow was suggestive.

He grinned. "Oh… Okay."

Aidan led her out of the restaurant after paying the bill and he opened the car door for her. She ignored the way her leg tried to slink away as he rested his hand on her thigh. With her own, she grabbed and held it, putting them both on the console between them.

: : :

He was no fool. As soon as it was apparent that Quistis was offering, he commenced with the taking. She helped him.

Standing in her heels she was nearly his height, so kissing was made even easier for him. He pressed into her and opened her mouth with a prying tongue. She backed away and smiled after a moment at the confusion on his face. Pulling him closer, she forced down a shudder as he started to explore her with his hands.

She was almost painfully aware of where he was touching her. It created odd tingling, almost stinging sensations. She started to unbutton his shirt and made herself caress his chest.

He took this as leave to do the same to her and she pushed his hands away, shaking her head. Not yet.

She put herself in the scenario of a mission and imagined being assessed for doing what was required and necessary. It helped so long as her eyes were closed, but the reality of the discomfort she was feeling with her boyfriend kept reasserting itself with every glimpse of darkened eyes and shedding clothing. When she made herself imagine what would make her comfortable she found that she would imagine Aidan to be Seifer, but the illusion wouldn't last long, and it made her feel even more painfully disconcerted.

It felt wrong to imagine doing this with Seifer too. Her mind reeled with the conception of betraying two men at the same time.

Quistis felt her skirt hike upward and felt hands on her ass.

Immediately she stiffened. She bowed her head, aware of his more focused eyes on her and his heavy breathing. He waited, confused, to see what was the matter.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head slowly. "I thought I was ready, but I'm not. I didn't mean to lead you on."

He found nothing to say, just started to collect his clothes.

She grabbed her handbag and plodded to the door.

"I-I have to go. I'll see you later."

With that she slipped out the door, whispered voices of her conscience demonizing her for things both done and not done. The voices of her friends joined the cacophony in her mind, stamped down slightly by the clicking of her heels on the tile floor hallways. They were words and voices she'd heard before. Now she listened. She devoted none of her cognition to getting herself to her destination, but her feet carried her home anyway.

She pulled out her keycard and slid it in the doorway, sliding into the confines of comfort.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note and warning: This chapter contains content that earns the story an 'M' rating.

The bit about _mille basia _is from Catullus. The Frost reference is obvious. Apologies if circumstances here seem a little too similar to _Past Tense, Perfect Tense. _Attitudes are somewhat similar, but things play out differently.

Thank you to my reviewers, especially Jean Chan and Quistis88: you're too kind, and I'm very pleased you're enjoying this.

: : :

Seifer eyed the door after he heard the click signaling its unlocking. By the time it slid open he recalled that he'd given the spare to Quistis earlier in the day. He returned his focus to the bag he was packing full of supplies, clothes, and other in sundry items.

Stepping inside, Quistis blinked at her surroundings. She'd thought that she'd returned to her own dorm, but evidently her travels took her to a place she felt even more at home. Seifer was sitting on the couch, just zipping just the big bag he would be taking on his mission. She detoured through the kitchen to collect two beers and opened them before she sat on the couch next to him. Quistis handed him the drink.

Eyeing her closely, almost warily, he took a pull from it. The time read 10:48. He wanted to get to sleep soon, but the fact that she was here meant something was wrong.

"Do I need to ask how it went when you're back so soon, or did it happen yet?"

She was silent.

He sighed. "Comedy or tragedy?"

"Depends on your sympathies for the characters."

"Tragedy then."

She looked away, lacquered fingernail tapping the side of the bottle she held. "I'd rather not talk about it."

He frowned. "No? Then why did you come here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Her focus turned to him then. Where he'd expected turmoil and restless depression, he found none. Instead her eyes were crystalline pools in a calm inlet, with shallow depths holding treasures so desirous of an owner they bubbled to the surface. For the first time he noticed her attire and the pearl earrings and waving dress did little to dispel the oceanic metaphors in his head. The scrutiny with which he held her in his gaze fell just short of dissection.

She shrugged. "Just wanted to see you, I guess." Rain began to fall outside and she stared out the window for a little while. He stared at her. "I don't think it'll every happen."

"What won't?" Sometimes she pulled things out of the air and just assumed he knew what she was talking about. Most of the time he did, but it still aggravated him to no end.

"I'm never going to sleep with anyone."

Seifer laughed. "Oh please… Don't start with the whole resignation to become an old maid when you're barely coming into your prime…"

She smiled at him, ruefully. "I-I found myself forcing myself to not back away at his touch, to touch him myself. And before you go on your tirade about spending time to gain comfort, I think if it was going to come, it would be here by now. He and I have been seeing each other for nearly a year."

"That long? Time flies, and all that…"

Snorting, she went on. "I just… Well, couldn't keep up the façade. And it wasn't like a mission; I think I'll be okay for that." She sighed. "As soon as his hands were on my ass, I went rigid, and had to get out of there. It wasn't like with y-"

Cutting the air with his hand, he barked, "Look, I don't tell you about my love life, and I don't want to hear about yours. Understood?"

Quistis nodded, eyes lowered. Rain was coming in a torrent.

"My students asked me if we were having an affair today."

"Mine too. One of them is probably outside right now washing the floors as a result."

He took another long draught of the beer and she admired the strength apparent even in his neck as he did such a mundane thing as swallow. The uniform shirt was still on him, three buttons undone, and sleeves rolled past his elbows. A five o-clock shadow that she knew really came at closer to eight was on his jaw, waving as it clenched and unclenched.

They were both thinking and whatever thoughts they had seemed to upset them.

She pulled herself onto his lap sideways and set the bottle on the windowsill. Her head rested on his shoulder, which seemed far more comfortable than cords of adamantine ever should be.

Lifting her head, Quistis watched him from close. The shift caused an agonizing wave of perfume to wash over him. Studying him was difficult for her, as she didn't have her glasses and couldn't see objects that were close to her without squinting. He had no such difficulty under his furrowed brows.

The beach analogies came to him again. He liked the beach. Her hair reminded him of the windswept sand patterns leading to the waters. A warm sea breeze wafted from her lips and the decorative shades of lipstick and makeup lent and aura of sunset across the placid waves. Had he not been able to keep himself rooted into reality, he would have wanted to play in the dunes.

Unconsciously, his hand ran itself through her hair.

"I never really appreciated how beautiful you are…" he confessed.

Her face floated toward his, closing in…

"What the hell are you doing?"

She opened her eyes. "…I thought that was an invitation."

"It wasn't," he snapped.

Quistis was unmoved but quiet.

"Do you ever think about it?"

"About what?"

She looked over his shoulder at the half-lit splatters of water falling down and shooting back up into the air. "Well, I've always been farsighted." She stopped.

"And I've always been a little myopic, so could you tell me where the hell this is going?" He was irritated. Obviously.

"You ever think everyone else is right and we're wrong? That maybe we've overlooked being something more, overlooked the comfort and camaraderie that hasn't developed elsewhere because, maybe, it means we've already found what we seek."

"What are you trying to say?" He didn't like where this conversation was heading. She sighed against his neck, which he held stock still.

"You love me." It wasn't a question. He answered anyway.

"Yes…"

"How much?"

"What?"

"Show me."

"I show you everyday…" He swallowed.

"I don't think you've ever shown me how much. Have you?"

"No," he admitted.

"Then do it now. Don't I deserve to know?"

"No… Yes. I don't know, damn it!" He turned away. "I think there's only one way to do that. The way where you wake up to find there was madness to the method and fewer friends than you had the night before."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes!" He yelled. "Fucking terrified… Do you not have the faith to believe that I cannot express it, in words or actions, but that it is there and I feel it?"

"Faith can help me to feel it, but no faith subsists on belief alone. Seifer, you can't lose what you don't have."

His tightened eyes were starting to rim around the edges. One does not fight with the ocean and avoid salt water, or being worn down.

"But I do have you. I don't want to lose you." He'd feared that this day would come. That she would ask him to do something he couldn't do and to which he could not say no.

"You**_ can't_ **lose me, Seifer."

"You don't understand what you're asking." She shifted so that she faced him from the front with her legs on either side of him. "This becomes a thing that divides. All that preceded it will become 'before' and everything onward will be 'after.' Friendships don't survive it. They become more or nothing with no exceptions, and the more may become nothing later, but it can never go back to before."

"So, you're not willing to risk losing a good thing for a better thing? You sound like me."

"Haven't you been trying for years to get me to think more like you?"

"Haven't you been trying to get me to _act_ more like you?"

"I can lose you, Quistis. I have before and I will again if this happens."

She shook her head, nose rubbing his. "I won't let you."

"You won't have the choice," he choked. "You can't force yourself to feel something."

"I know. I've finally realized that and what it means. We don't have to force anything with each other. Doesn't that mean something to you?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"But what? Seifer, I've finally come to terms with the fact that I love you. I'm probably _in love_ with you. That is the reason I can't find what we have with anyone else, not because you haven't taught me to laugh and live, but because… You're the only one who deserves to reap what you've sown. Can't you see what could be waiting?"

"Yes. The world will end in fire or in ice."

"Then there's rapture and heaven."

"Or purgatory then hell."

"Ah, but you have faith in me and I you. Reward it." She brought her face down so that her forehead rested on his. "Seifer, show me how much you love me."

Her hands lifted to take hold of his face, her eyes washed over him, each flicker and blink eroding his resolve, taking another part of him to her. All the words had left her. She reached down with the same eloquent lips and spoke all the same. His mouth proved an inadequate breaker for the coming outpouring and the last of his defense dissolved.

It was as if there was never a real choice in the matter. He could not deny that she deserved what she asked; only that he could have the strength and articulacy to give it. And he questioned if he deserved being able to show it. For Seifer, there was nothing left then, but to try to do what she asked. To give what she wanted and hope it was what they needed. Hope that it was worthy.

Thoughts vanished with the tastes of cranberry, then shellfish and wild rice, and the hint of scotch.

Using his head, he pushed her face up and to the side, giving himself access to her neck. He started to pour out the glorious thanks for a long ago and undeserved forgiveness, for patience and teaching more than he knew he learned. There, he trailed _mille basia, deinde centum_, and on the other side, _altera mille_. His hands landed on her waist, where they felt nothing underneath but the smooth movement of silk on silken skin. She shifted on top of him and smiled at his questioning gaze.

"Didn't you always say it was only proper that a mercenary go commando?"

The humor did not have its intended effect. He blushed out of shame, but she lifted his head and kissed him, and he forgot what there was to be ashamed of. One of the less prosaic parts of his mind admitted that he was exactly the sort of man who could and would climb the Tower of Babel just to find that he'd left heaven behind.

He scooted forward and pulled her closer so that she could wrap her legs around him. All there was was the warmth of touch. They moved little, but he held her there nearly crushed against him, and her mouth pulled and pushed and bit out hundreds of little rewards, thanks, and kindly love notes. It was only when she backed away momentarily that he realized she'd been unbuttoning his shirt, for the lack of warmth was far greater than it should have been.

Before this point in her life, Quistis had thought very little of kissing, and truthfully she wasn't much thinking of it now. She never saw the point. I didn't bring out the desire to do anything more, but now, at this very moment, she felt the lamentable want of them having just lost the taste and smell and unspoken affection made tangible, real, love.

She pulled off his undershirt before they rectified their situations and crashed hungrily into each other again. Her hands raked through thick rows of golden wheat hair, his traced her neck, and collarbones, until the cold and heat drove her skin to crawl with gooseflesh. It was far from an unpleasant feeling.

Quistis straggled along his chest and abdomen. She shoved his head back and licked up and down his neck which had the automatic effect of soliciting a guttural groan and raking his hands along the entire length of her legs, bunching the fabric at the hem of her dress. He was made all too aware of how little separated them at the brushing of her chest on his.

Pulling away again, she reached down to pull her dress over her head, revealing to him only Quistis underneath, in all her physical, sensual glory. Seifer held her, beheld her, almost reverentially, acting as if it was his first time, a nervous teenage boy. He reached out for her hands and enveloped them, folding her arms away so he could bisect her with his mouth, from her neck past her navel. She shivered. Then she freed her hands to burrow one into the nape of his neck, clutching and scratching, and the other to fumble with his belt.

He helped her and soon they were on equal footing. Seifer turned from her. On seeing his cyclical reluctance return, she buried herself in him again and encouraged him with gentle squeezes and strokes.

Quistis straddled him again, pressing her hips into his and rocking slowly, back and forth. He had his arms wrapped around her back, face under the cascade of her hair, nibbling her ear tenderly. Rising, she nodded to him, and slowly descended again, until they were one.

Up and down she moved, unable to bite back the hiss that came on the loss of maidenhood. His eyes shot open and witnessed the wincing, the face contorted in pain, and he was all guilt again, body growing flaccid.

She saw him and his sadness. She kissed him, fell further upon him.

"I know you don't want to hurt me, Seifer, but it can't be anyone else. It never could have." The words were true, and he knew it then.

Quistis placed his hands, which had hovered around her torso, firmly on her breasts, and resumed her moment. He caressed her then, and was redeemed by seeing, feeling her react to him, and then feeling worthy of the love she gave him. Somehow she gave him strength and he took her pain, which turned slowly into pleasure as he held her and took control with, slow, refined gestures. Like they did the night before, his hands went roving, this time with the direction of their master, and this time they did explore the rest of her. The hands carried gifts that asked for continued penitence that praised her strengths, forgave when she was weak, and gave devotional measures of protection and sacrifice to reciprocate what she sacrificed for him.

Somehow he said that many things he did day-to-day were only to see her smile, that it meant the world when she condescended to be his equal and lifted him enough to be hers, that taking her guilt had somehow made his own less burdensome. He showed that his feelings for her were certain even in a still oft-troubled soul and he showed them with his every motion and touch. With each whisper and peck and awe-filled outlining of each curve.

She felt a thousand things and none. To try to describe what transpires beyond the shell of the act could empty the vocabularies of every language and still not find the breadth, the precision, the beauty, and the wholly encompassing overwhelming flood of emotion and spiritual revelation that it entails. She took him into her as a person takes in praise and the criticism of those who care enough to give anything they can to improve and protect you. Her nails dug through his hair and into his back. His name she sung on her lips, at once a hymn and a prayer.

He praised her for making him able to defeat doubt with a slow massage that incorporated all of her. And he, he showed her how much he loved her.

At once his body went rigid and he held her against him almost painfully when he could no longer continue to do anything except spasm into her. He gripped her shoulder and felt her pulse all along her with his lips fervently, other hand running through her hair, rejoicing with the renewed scent of _her_.

When there was nothing more to express or to feel, she fell against him, breathing hard. She kissed him, fiercely, and was silent.

She had not, as she jokingly surmised the night before, reached the height of passion three times, or even once. But to say she was unfulfilled would be quite untrue. They couldn't process anything anymore. Their first time making love was debilitating and exhausting in a way that any mere physical activity could never be for them. And, in truth, it was Seifer's first time as well. Sex was sex. This was… Different. More. Utterly consuming and vast.

He carried her to his bed, never speaking, and watched her blue eyes brimming with tears he hoped were as joyous and blessedly confused as he felt. Seifer watched her with her hand in his until she succumbed to sleep. His heart and mind seemed to threaten to overload to bursting and he was certain that despite his fatigue he would never find sleep that night.

After only a few minutes, his eyelids fluttered and closed, his mind paradoxically peaceful in its uncertainty.

: : :

In the early morning, he carefully left the bed, showered and dressed. He peaked at her still resting form once more before leaving, and decided against saying goodbye. He never liked to say it and he somehow felt that he already had. Quietly, he shut the door to his bedroom, shouldered his bag, and exited to wait in the hangar.

Irvine was there already, with Selphie and Zell. Squall and Rinoa wandered in a few minutes later, Rinoa rubbing her eyes and yawning.

Selphie bounded into the craft to run the pre-flight checklist. She would pilot them there for the drop-off, unwilling to let any opportunity for flight to pass her by. Squall said his farewells to everyone. He shook Seifer's hand.

"Take care of her."

"I'm sure Zell will be fine." He smirked. Squall nodded, the arrogance, humor, and bravado all the assurance he needed to know that his love and the mission, were in good hands. "Make sure Quistis stays sane while I'm gone. Don't let Selphie 'volunteer' her for too many things."

Squall smiled. "I'll see what I can do." He frowned and checked his watch. Selphie started the outboard engines, signaling the time to board and leave. Seifer walked up the ramp. "I'm surprised she didn't say goodbye."

"She already did."

: : :

The Return of the Author's Note: I wanted to avoid the trap that seemingly all media fall into almost constantly. Namely that all sex is earth-shatteringly blissful, perfect, passionate, timed with coinciding orgasms after hours of activity, etc… Also note that I'm too much a coward to make it truly bad. It's my first attempt at one and the purpose was not to titillate, but to detail what I think would happen in the circumstances. And hopefully to tell a meaningful, poignant story. Any constructive criticism on how to write it better would be very welcome.

I don't know how I feel about it.

A short story (that might sound like an advertisement at first) – The other night as a novelty of the new dashboard functions on the Xbox360 I said, "Xbox, Bing Nobuo Uematsu." To my utter shock I was listening to "Opening – Bombing Mission" from FFVII a few seconds later. Very cool. Anyway, a short time after, I listened to "Aeris' Theme," probably for the first time since going to the "Dear Friends" concert several years ago (if you ever get the chance to see Uematsu's works performed live, do it: it's worth it), and it brought me back to it. My toddler and I were close to tears, so at least it wasn't just me being a baby listening to a song. He told me he was sad. So was I.

Moral: Uematsu writes very moving music and I'm six and a half feet of sap. Of course, if you've read any of my stuff, especially the above, you probably already knew that.

Satis superque…


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Many apologies that I've been away for so long. With the holidays I had a lot more time at home, but much less time to write. I also struggled mightily with this chapter, as I do anytime I write about these two characters and separate them. Almost seems like a sign, how easily the words come when they're together and how hard when they are apart…

Anyway, I often hate it when authors make you wait chapters or longer to read about a certain character when there is distance between them and others. So I propose to make the opposite evil and juggle perspectives too frequently. I do hope it's not annoying.

I should be back in the swing of things for this and I have another project in the pipeline. I may be putting _In The End _on hiatus, since I explored some of the concepts I wished to in it by writing _The Void Which Bound_. Who knows? But new chapters here will come more quickly and you can expect a new multi-chapter to pop up within a week.

Enige-iets - I've been compared to Shakespeare for the second time here. To which I say: you're crazy. And thank you. That goes for the rest of you too. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

: : :

Quistis awoke with the rising sun and a myriad of foreign sensations and thoughts. Most of them gave merit to the smile she wore, but darker ones threatened to overtake it. She awoke alone and cold, if unsurprised: he did have to leave early for his mission, after all. But she was still disappointed and dejected.

Couldn't he have said goodbye? He was never so considerate of her need to rest before. Then, she had never been quite so completely drained before. Perhaps he already had said goodbye.

She halted her line of thinking before it took her off into dangerous country. Seifer loathed saying goodbye, for he saw no good in it; a too-final phrase for something he always saw to make temporary. No, there was nothing left to say after last night, everything had already been spoken. He would come back.

To her.

: : :

"There's something wrong with Seifer…" Selphie peered over her shoulder at the sleeping mass sitting up on a bench behind her. Turning to face forward again, she was met with a tattooed visage that did its best to appear blasé.

"Of course there is," Zell snorted.

The even shorter girl waved her hand irritably. "No, I mean even more so than usual. He never naps, for one. Also, he looked almost… distant. Seifer is nothing if not _right there_." Gesticulating, she waved her arms in big circles. Then she tapped her chin ponderingly. "You don't think…? Nah, of course you don't."

Zell stepped back, shaking angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

: : :

Quistis lay in bed until the sunlight crept over the pillowtop to her in friendly greeting. She stretched and yawned. Her hands drifted along the sheets and came away bloody.

She cursed.

: : :

"...er."

The noise differed ever so slightly from the roar of the air and near screech of the engines. He drifted in and out of consciousness, having been enervated by past excitement and current boredom, departed company and new irritants. The flight to Esthar was already five hours old. Another three remained.

"...fer?"

It wasn't as if there was even decent scenery. The cockpit window streamed with rivulets of water from the clouds which obscured all beyond, making him nervous. Selphie was piloting, after all. Evidently, she wanted to stand out at all times, except when flying the world's only spacecraft. You know, the one that's shaped like a dragon, sends 100 meter streams of fire out its engines, and is colored bright red?

"Seifer!"

He turned his head to the other green-eyed terror occupying the bridge. "What? Fuck... You don't need to yell, I'm two feet away!"

She directed her eyes... Spaceward. "I've been calling you for three minutes! And you say _I'm_ a space cadet."

He continued to peer out the window, watching as the drops of condensation made differing pathways even if they began in the same place, with the same shape and size of their forbearers. Selphie studied him as he began to fall in and out of sleep again.

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'not before the big game?' You shouldn't have stayed up so late 'studying' your favorite instructor."

"Shouldn't you actually, you know, pilot this thing instead of giving me the third degree?"

"Pssssh… This thing practically flies himself. I only really need to take off and land."

"I thought all ships were considered female."

"Nah. Ragnarok looks pretty butch. Besides, when the boarding ramp is down, it looks just like a –"

"- Hyne, Tilmit! Obviously it must be hard to get your mind out of the gutter when you're so close to the ground, but come on!" She glared at his reference to her height, or lack thereof.

"You're just trying to change the subject because you won't admit that you're in love with Quistis!"

He focused on her with a placid face. "I admit it."

Her mouth remained open, but that shut her up.

: : :

Getting out of the bed, she resolved to wash the sheets and herself before leaving. Leaving though, didn't mean what it used to, after meals eaten, bodies, dishes, teeth, and bedding cleaned, tears spilled, and so many words exchanged, so much love shared. It all made this place home. More home than she'd felt anywhere in her nomadic life. She hoped that the original occupant felt the same and would welcome just how home she felt.

She looked in the mirror at a face marked by smudged makeup, tearstains of running mascara, and of tired, tired eyes.

Permagrin presented itself to her then. She'd just drunk a case of Seifer Almasy and she was still on her feet; floating, more like. Quistis stared at a smiling face and couldn't help but to smile back. It was the face of a young woman who was very happy and it could make anyone smile.

Quistis showered, ate a bowl of cereal, and did the laundry before she left the suite. All the while she tried to ignore just how empty home felt without him there to fill it. She had to teach his class in half an hour, so she sighed, then walked down the hall to her dorm to find something more appropriate to wear. All the while she tried to ignore just how full the halls were of gawping onlookers, whispering and gossiping. She let them talk, but nearly removed the lips of a young man who had the audacity to whistle at her.

: : :

Selphie did her best impression of an emerald-eyed fish out of water with gravity defying hair. Seifer turned away, then smirked.

"So, then… You really…But I thought…"

"At a loss for words, Messenger Girl? This really isn't like you."

At once she simply beamed, then launched herself at him, engulfing him in a hug that would have cracked the ribs of lesser men.

"Oof… Fuck…" He managed to breathe out a few words here and there. "It doesn't mean I'm getting open-minded about you, Pip." He stuck his hand up in the air up to his chin. "You must be this tall to ride."

She kicked him.

: : :

In her own dorm, she packed a small bag of clothes in addition to her attaché for class. She changed into the brightest orange ensemble she had, which was entirely tasteful, but flattering and eminently noticeable on one who seldom was out of uniform. Instructors were required to dress professionally, but unlike their students, did not need to be in uniform. Ironically, now that it was allowed, Seifer almost never dressed out of uniform.

Laughing a little to herself, she nearly _skipped_ out of the room.

Walking back out into the halls with her bags, she made her way to the second floor classrooms, into the wall of whispers that awaited her in Seifer's classroom.

: : :

The rest of his team rejoined him once Selphie announced that they would be landing in a few minutes. They all buckled in and Seifer began to brief them about their contact and the where they would be staying. He would glare whenever he'd catch Selphie staring at him and she would alternately stick out her tongue or wink.

Eventually, he stopped his silent feud in the hopes that it would help keep Rinoa from noticing that anything was out of the ordinary. He'd never hear the end of it if Selphie actually told her that she'd figured out his growing relationship with Quistis. At least he hoped it was growing and that all those spoken and unspoken words weren't an epitaph to the most meaningful and fulfilling friendship he'd ever had.

And hadn't deserved.

He sighed. This was going to be a long mission.

: : :

The whispers became more heated when the students saw her attire. Instructor Trepe out of uniform? The world had turned on its head. Others commented on seeing her leave their regular instructor's room _yet again_, this morning. Some winks from the female crowd were sent her way, and somehow she couldn't summon the authoritative and harsh countenance of Quistis Trepe: Instructor and Icy Wench. Instead, she turned her head, blushing and grinning like the schoolgirls she was teaching.

"Way to go, Instructor T!"

"We're happy for you two. You deserve it."

She cringed at her unspoken admission and at how fast it would fly around the school. Putting up a hand to silence the crowd, she bade them to discontinue the conversation and not to spread it. Their instructor was a very private man, after all. With the help of the disenchanted girls who were in denial about the entire situation, and consequently didn't want to hear any more about it, maybe the news wouldn't travel far.

Quistis stood and addressed the class, having regained her composure.

"Class, I'm sure Instructor Almasy informed you yesterday that he'll be off on a mission for the next two weeks and that I'll be his substitute for the duration. While I may not quite have the creativity to introduce raw spellcasting into weapon tactics, as a blue mage I am qualified to teach concerning the subject of unjuctioned magic. I'll focus more on my area of expertise: learning the arcane sources of magics that cannot be drawn from enemies, but only reproduced with techniques learned from them."

All the tension and uncertainty left her as she fell into a very interactive lecture that had many students awed and others rolling in laughter.

: : :

One thing no one ever mentions about Esthar is the wind. The shield around the city did nothing to stop it and all of the massive, tall buildings made most streets something like wind tunnels. Maybe that's why all the residents wear full-body robes. The blustery weather necessitated everyone hug Selphie goodbye as she walked around the hull and ensured the craft was refueled and airworthy for the return trip.

She'd have insisted anyway. When her embrace of Seifer lasted much longer than was appropriate, or at all comfortable for Irvine, who stood nearby tapping his boot impatiently, Rinoa fixed him with a look normally only shared in nature between a bird of prey and small mammals miles from shelter in an open grassland. As Selphie prattled on about how she was going to grill Quistis for details when she got back, Seifer started to sweat, in defiance of the cool wind.

"Support her, but don't dog her. It's going to be hard." Seifer peeled her off with those words.

She brought her head back to regard him. "Awww... You're looking out for her! Also: that's what she said!" Seifer set her down and she frolicked over to Irvine and spent even more time with him. At his insistence.

A voice stitched with velvet and honey insinuated itself in his ear. Rinoa's.

"Anything going on you want to tell me?"

"Nope," Seifer responded, then said more loudly, "Alright. Lets move out."

They all covered their faces as they walked toward the lift. Esthar's contact had agreed to meet them at their hotel, so they had a timeframe to meet. Everyone dragged their cases and set the lift toward the north quadrant of the city, near where the attacks were taking place.

It was quiet while they moved and the bubble over them shielded them from the gales. No one broke the silence, for it was a rare luxury on a mission, wherein the only break from noise came from concussive blasts that stole your hearing, between the roars of monsters, shouts of men, clatter of gunfire, and engines, magic, screams...

A melodious tone sounded when the lift stopped and announced they had arrived. In the street, all was still and quiet but for the incessant breeze. All fluorescent blues, yellows, and purples. They took the few steps up to the hotel and were greeted by a bellhop only once they'd entered the door. He took their belongings on a trolley to be taken to their rooms.

"Where is everyone? Seems dead outside," Irvine observed. It had been almost uninhabited since they'd set foot in the city. Usually, it bustled, even at this time of night.

"Most people have been staying clear of the north section of the city since the attacks started. I'll let the ambassador know that you're here. Please feel free to refresh yourselves or order anything from the cafe." With that the orderly walked away.

None of them sat, but Irvine did pick through some smoked fish and crackers and Zell joined him, finished them, and then ordered several dozen chicobo wings. Rinoa refused them on principle.

A robed figure approached them. "Mister Almasy."

Seifer extended his hand to the ambassador. It wasn't accepted. He frowned and retracted it.

"While I can't say I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, I am pleased you're here to clean up your mess. Do take care not to drop dead until you've done so." Rinoa gasped and started to march up to the man, but Seifer held her back with an arm. "In the morning one of the MPs will be by here to take you out to the caverns in an APC. You'll need to map out the lairs with ultrasound and determine the best places to place your charges. You brought a demolitions expert?"

Irvine answered. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Equipment will be provided for imaging. You will have no military support apart from logistical needs. Our troops are needed in the city."

"Not for long."

"I do hope you're right, Mister Almasy."

"It's Instructor Almasy."

The hooded man nodded. "Forgive me if I don't consider a title that infers you teach others to kill an honorific." Rinoa was still red-faced with rage, but she held her tongue.

Seifer shrugged. "There must be something to it since it appears you're at the mercy of one."

"It wouldn't be the first time… Are there any questions?"

"No"

"Good." He brushed by them and tripped on Rinoa's shoe stuck out behind her.

"Oh, excuse me. I'm terribly clumsy."

The ambassador brushed himself off and made to leave. "Not at all. Good night."

"Good night, you cock-sucking piece of shit," Rinoa uttered under her breath.

Seifer held up his hand. "Only one way to prove him wrong." Rinoa nodded, reluctantly, but decisively. "I'm going out to check the wall. You all should rest up and get ready. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Irvine trudged off to his room, happy to removed himself and forget about the drama. Zell walked over to Rinoa, who was staring out the window, pallor slowly returning to her face. She turned to face him.

"You kiss Squall with that mouth?"

She giggled.

: : :

"Observation is extremely important if you wish to learn additional magical and other combat skills. They don't translate well to text, you understand." She walked to the front of the desk and eyed one student in the middle row. Looking back down to the roster Seifer left her, she asked, "Now, class, what do you think we can learn about Mr. Kinsey by looking at him?"

"Right now? Or in combat?"

"Right now. Sometimes deciding to observe only once you're in combat is a case of 'too little, too late.'" Most of the students laughed. That certainly would have been a lesson their instructor would have taught, though he wasn't exactly known for _not_ plunging headfirst into situations without analyzing them first, he was still very observant.

"Well, his uniform isn't pressed. Especially the arms"

Quistis nodded. "Good. What might that say about him, other than that he's a somewhat of a slob, or careless?"

There was silence. Most of the class were trying to figure something out, but were coming up empty. Their substitute teacher walked closer, down the aisle.

"We might note that there are small flecks of metal on his sleeves. Perhaps giving us a clue about why his uniform is wrinkled on the arms. Are you a metalworker, Mr. Kinsey?"

He shifted a little in his seat. "Yes, instructor. I used the lathe just this morning."

She raised an eyebrow, but her voice didn't change in timber. "Oh? I was informed that the shop would be closed until Miss Tilmit returns." She paused. "Let's take a closer look, shall we? My, your hands have an odd tint to them. They look yellow on the fingertips. Why might that be?"

"Bad liver?"

"No, you're not jaundiced. Just a cheater." The class gasped. She turned and headed back to her desk. "Most students are aware of where past and current exams are held, but few are stupid enough to go after them. Do you really think the faculty isn't able to discover when there's a breach? Those metal shavings on your arms; filings from the stripped screws that one removes from the parcel hatch in order to gain access to the archives. The main door's keycard access is easily audited, after all."

The student was unimpressed. "These shavings could be from anything. I really do work with metal. This must be an old uncleaned uniform I picked up accidentally."

"Not likely. Lathing usually produces smoother byproducts and the metal on you is iron. Students don't work with iron here until it's already in an alloy, it being too weak and heavy in its own to be of real value to SeeD.

"Also, the yellowing on your fingertips is from the usually invisible residue other adventurous but lazy students such as yourself placed on the central testing and scoring terminal. When subjected to blacklight, one can see the keystrokes faculty used to input their passwords. However, most students don't realize that the substance turns skin yellow once they do reproduce the password, and is further activated by soaps and water, thereby assigning their guilt. The reason you may notice some instructors occasionally smelling like gasoline is because it's one of the few things that gets the stuff off."

Classmen were appropriately awed and demanded other examples. She put up her hand as Kinsey flushed, knowing he was looking forward to a near future that featured detention at best. Quistis smirked, and then pointed to another cadet, who sat forward eagerly.

"And you, you were nervous about having a substitute, weren't you? It looks like you just chewed right through your press-on nails. Obviously, it's not a habit you've been practicing. Is anything else bothering you?"

The girl shook her head. Quistis left her alone after that. Fear of blackmail shut up a number of the more disgruntled students, especially because of the amount of joy so many got out of seeing her reveal esoteric facts about the student body.

: : :

Seifer jumped as a hand gripped his upper arm. He subdued the person less than a moment later, arching their back, bending their knees, and placing them in disarming chokehold. Then he smelled her and he let go.

"Hyne… Sorry, Rin. How do you sneak up on me like that?"

She rubbed her throat, grinning wryly. "Sorceresses have a way of going unnoticed. And you haven't really been all there recently. You seem distracted. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." He faced the plains and watched the erratic tears fade in and out along the force field.

"Looks like the monsters took a chunk out of the wall over there." Rinoa pointed, and grabbed his arm again.

"Oh, yeah. I hadn't noticed."

She rubbed his back. "See what I mean? You normally pick up on everything. What's wrong?"

He sighed. "You ever feel like you don't deserve the good things that happen to you in life?"

The sorceress tilted her head to the side. "No, I can't honestly say I do. I don't think about that kind of stuff, and I'm pretty surprised that you do."

"Well, I want to deserve what I have, and I don't think I do."

"Many people don't deserve what they have by my judgment, but you work to. That's what's important. Now, I can't expostulate with you about how you really deserve so much more than you already have, but I think in time, you'll convince yourself." She smiled. "Come on. Let's go back, tomorrow's a long day, you don't have the time to stand out here and be philosophical. You need to be rested to prove me right." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

They walked back to the hotel together.

: : :

People were begging her to demonstrate on others and she indulged a few requests as she asked around the room. She stopped in front of the one young man who'd remained silent for the entire class period. They stared at each other.

"What's your secret, Oren? They say it's always the quiet ones."

"No secrets here, Instructor Trepe."

"Everyone has secrets. I understand you're a skilled essayist. Your works are widely emulated in Garden." He blanched. "It is relatively simple, you understand, to determine when someone has used someone else's work as a template. Students who copy from, and adapt another person's work tend to be just lazy enough that the changes they make tend to fall into a few simple algorithms which are easily traced to the source material. If they were as clever as you, the people who used your material wouldn't have come to you. Let that be a lesson to you, because I know you've been selling templates, and that is a punishable offense at Garden."

"How do you know I sold them? You can't possibly have gotten any proof just by talking to and looking at me."

"You're right. I read Instructor Almasy's notes about you." She smiled. "Sometimes there's no substitute for homework, no matter how skilled or quick-witted you are. Let that be a lesson to the rest of you."

Quistis returned to sit behind her desk. She dismissed the class and handed out detention and other punishments to the deserving, lamenting the fact that the Disciplinary Committee wasn't what it used to be.

Most everyone else was happy, if a little embarrassed, by the time class ended, having been infected by the instructor's joyful emotions, but quickly forgetting the reasons for them. She collected her things and started to walk back to her home.

"Quistis!" A man shouted behind her. Aidan. "I need to talk to you." She stopped. "About last night…"

She held up a hand. "Listen: I need to say something first. It's over. You shouldn't have to bear the burden of being with someone who doesn't share your feelings and I'm through settling for trying to fake that they're there and forcing myself to accept you. I'm sorry for carrying on like this for so long, but you _are _a good man and you deserve someone who will love you back."

He bowed his head, silent.

Quistis sighed softly and walked away.

"This is about Almasy, isn't it?"


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Many apologies for the long wait, and that I don't feel this is much of an offering, just another required step to get to where this story wants to go. And I imagine where everyone else wants it to go. I think I can pick up the pace now.

: : :

Seifer paced in the early morning hours in the hotel lobby, eating breakfast and drinking down orange juice all the while. He'd slept little, in part because he shared the room with Irvine, who had no trouble sleeping and snored extremely loudly, and also because he wanted to be out in the field. Hyperion was levered on his shoulder and food or a glass alternated occupying his other hand.

The night before, Rinoa had shared a cocktail with him. He'd stopped after one, for several reasons, but the primary one was that she could hold her liquor better than any woman he knew and she seemed to have an agenda to get him to open up about his personal life. He knew better than to fall into her trap. Instead, they discussed strategy.

Specifically, he lobbied to have her be the fourth one out, the one to stay out of the fracas and support from afar. This was easily accomplished with adept magic users, who could utilize support, healing, and even attack magics in some cases with little danger of enemy reprisal if the front line was strong enough. She argued that it should be Irvine, because in the event that there are a great number of monsters in a relatively small, non-vertical space, his ability to prioritize targets is compromised. Rinoa also argued that she could take more punishment, which although somewhat sad for Irvine, was true.

Eventually he conceded to her. He let her take the win and left, hoping to talk to Quistis before the night's end, but he realized that she would still be in classes for a couple hours. It was only about 16:00 in Balamb. Sighing, he decided just to go to bed.

Zell was the next up and around. He graced his team leader with a series of handsprings, a winning smile, and a thumbs-up, all of which were ignored. Shrugging, he grabbed two plates and piled them high with food before he sat down. One plate was spotless in four minutes and seven seconds and the other was empty three minutes after that. And again five minutes after that...

Irvine walked down with Rinoa moments later. They ate considerably less and rather more daintily than their short blonde companion at the table.

After a while a hotel manager came down to them and announce to Seifer, "Mister Almasy. The escort is here."

"Good. Everyone, let's go."

: : :

"Of course it's about Seifer!" Quistis hissed, and then calmed herself. Aiden looked taken aback at the vehemence in his now former girlfriend. "I had an epiphany last night. I realized I was in love, but not with the man I was dating. I realized that I kept myself from this knowledge because of fear of loss, but I have no fear of losing what I don't have anymore. Not with him."

Aiden pulled in a sharp breath. "You know, he told me that you respected me too much to cheat on me, that I didn't know you if I couldn't trust you to be faithful. And I believed him. I believed in _you_." He then found his arm gripped painfully and dragged out of the hallway and its prying ears, to a conference room. She shut the door. He swallowed hard.

"The spurned lover routine doesn't suit you, Aiden."

"And Garden floozy doesn't suit you, Quistis."

She punched him hard enough to fold him over the table, knocking office chairs across the floor. He got up in shock and held the side of his stinging and already bruising face.

"I may know little about relationships, but I know love when I feel it," she spat.

He continued, appearing not to have heard her, "He _will_ leave you, you know. Just like all the others. Our relationship might have meant little to you, but I guarantee your one-night-stand means nothing to him! You're a fool to believe otherwise." He snorted. "You did lose what you didn't have, _and_ what you did. No more guilty pleasures for you, Quistis. He's already left you and you're too blind to know it."

Aiden sighed, reached out to touch her, but thought better of it and then left her alone, head bowed and she was trapped inside it, spinning still, like the disturbed chairs. Conflicting thoughts conferred with her and argued over the reflective floor.

: : :

"So... What kinds of critters y'all got runnin' round these parts?" Irvine queried the driver.

The sergeant driving them turned his head slightly to face the party. "Our patrols regularly see abyss worms, elnoyles, blue dragons, hexadragons, and the occasional ruby. More and more we're seein' behemoths, even a few kings. A few propagators and something like iron giants, too." He had to shout to be heard above the engine noise and the constant crunching of the gravelly ground. "'Course, our patrols only go out about five, seven, klicks tops. We're dropping you off at the 25 kilometer mark. No telling what you'll find there."

Seifer glanced up. "Whatever we find, we'll kill."

The driver nodded, grinning. "Wish I could go on with you, but orders are to protect city interior." He shrugged.

Rinoa sat with her hands folded primly, looking out the tiny windows at the sparse scenery and growing density of monsters. They were now 10 kilometers outside the city. Through the windshield the crater was now visible.

Tendrils of jutting crystalline crags and stalactites that pulsed in an almost organic fashion flew out in erratic directions. Beasts of all manners could be seen appearing and disappearing into the labyrinth of underground chambers. Vegetation, usually difficult to come by in the area, was utterly absent. Cracking dry earth was in their place and a long plume of dust rose from the ground over which they drove.

"Why do I feel like we're riding in on a cake with flares for candles, sitting on a silver platter?" Seifer frowned. Some of the other SeeDs and all the soldiers shared his unease. He bounced his ankle and gunblade atop his knee.

Another 10 kilometers and the herds of creatures grew thicker, so much so that the driver had to actually swerve to avoid them in their larger swells. A rolling mist came out of the crags. The smell in the air became wet sulfur and decay, but improved after a time. The SeeDs ran through a final check of junctions, magic and item stocks, and the special equipment.

"Getting pretty hairy out there…" remarked the sergeant behind the wheel. He weaved around casually flicking tails of behemoths, sweat forming on his brow.

An iron giant's glowing eyes tracked the APC approaching.

"I think I'm going to have to cut the trip short here, folks. Can't make it through any more of this…" He stopped the vehicle. "Plan is to be back to pick you up at 20:00, right here, so you're in for a long day."

"Got it. Thanks." The squad leader emerged from the vehicle and waited for his team.

Around them on all sides was a full menagerie of fiends, great and many. They watched silently as the APC drove away, weaving again, between the crowds. Irvine shifted uncomfortably, Exeter trading shoulders continuously. This was a marksman's nightmare. Terrain was flat and without a place to hide and targets were too many and too close. He couldn't train on one without gaining the attention of a dozen others.

Zell bounced around on the balls of his feet excitably as Rinoa busied herself by checking on her winged chakram. Everyone turned to their leader after a time and awaited direction.

"All right. We're in this for the long haul. That means we can't assume we'll be picked up each day. Don't use magic you can't easily draw or refine from what you can pick up. Remember that there aren't any safe havens around here until we make them.

"We're going to have to make our attacks primarily physical to preserve junctioning. Doomtrain, Carbuncle, and Siren are your best friends for the next two weeks. We'll sweep along an oval counter clockwise to the northeast until we make it back here. Questions?"

"When's lunch?" Zell wanted to know.

"Whenever you find and cook it. Behemoth is tasty in a pinch." Rinoa turned a sickly green shade. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Like, couldn't we have picked somewhere with a hill, bunker, rooftop, or even some sandbags?"

"No, cowboy. Let's go." With that, and the infamous "Almasy Point", in which Hyperion's nastier end directed his destination, they were off.

: : :

Quistis had waited in the hangar until midnight, when Ragnarok's pritely pilot returned the spaceship safely home. It wasn't a hale habit of hers to stay alone with her thoughts and hear only their voices. So she bided her time with classes and evening tutoring. She'd even dined with Squall, just to keep her distracted, but she couldn't talk to him about the problems she faced, not even when he knew and understood them. He was a man much like her, who often found the world drowned out by his own inner monologues. Squall had stopped trying to get her to open up after she offered no comment about the rapid change in her former boyfriend's complexion on the left side of his face, suddenly an ugly purple and odd yellow.

She'd only kept her head bowed. He laughed, in his own short way, and said he was proud. Then he grabbed the remainder of her nearly untouched sandwich, squeezed her shoulder, and walked away, still snickering.

Descending to dock, the Ragnarok was surprisingly quiet. The landing gear jutted out in silence and the VTOL engines pushed a cushion of air to set down 175 tons as if a feather. Muffled noises could be hear from the interior and a sporadic clicking from the cooling engines with the creaking of metal shrinking back into place. These were soon replaced with a faint whistling, and then, in what should surprise no one, but often did, the pilot grew louder than the craft ever was.

"Quisty!" Selphie bellowed.

Her friend covered get ears as she began to release over seven hours of pent up energy, which had been shown in an earlier experiment to be capable of proving electricity to the town of Balamb for 3 weeks, 6 days, 21 hours, and 38 minutes. Some argued that it was really only 37 minutes, but it seemed to depend on distance from the center of town.

Selphie continued on as she jumped up to hug her taller friend. "Seifer told me everything!" At Quistis' inhalation and quirked eyebrow, Selphie was forced to admit, "Well, okay. Not _everything_… Just enough to make me make _you_ tell me everything." She jumped down and hopped from foot to foot. "So spill it!"

Quistis laughed softy under Selphie's intense gaze, then walked with her in tow down the curving hallways. "I guess I finally listened to your advice, when it kept replaying itself in my head after last night's date turned debacle with Aiden. All those things you and the others told me, and some things I've told myself that I thought were unrelated, suddenly formed a sensible narrative. I was overlooking what I wanted because I thought I had what I needed. Or some other arrangement of those words, but I think you get the picture."

Selphie nodded in a vaguely avian way, saying; "Okay, so you had an epiphany on your own sweet time frame. Got it. Details, Quisty! I need details! You _know _he didn't give me any, being a man and all…"

She smiled and shook her head. "No. He wouldn't, would he?" Quistis sighed, and they turned down the hall toward her suite. Selphie protested loudly.

"Nuh-uh! Go to his place. I know you have a key and he always has beer." She beamed.

"Selphie… It's after midnight and I have a double classload of work tomorrow. I don't have time for beer." Her smaller friend frowned and threw an arm around her shoulders. It had the effect of making her stoop as they walked off in the opposite direction.

"My most educated friend…" she began. "There is one thing you must learn: There is _always_ time for beer."

: : :

The clock was winding down on the day in Esthar's plains. All the team members were covered in dust, ichor, and blood, most of which was thankfully not their own. Irvine sat slumped forward on a makeshift bench of an Iron Giant's leg, Zell joining him with the remnants of his lunch: behemoth king tenderloin.

The sun was a few degrees off the flat horizon and it cast glinting rays to the nearby salt flats, but didn't hold much warmth any longer. In the south, the plains were littered with the scores of recently deceased fiends cut in a wide swath which allowed a much easier time for their transporter to collect them. Apart from the occasional distant bellow of a monster, all was silent, even the wind, much gentler outside the city.

Rinoa sat with everyone else, knees pulled up to her chest as she sat on the ground. Irvine and Seifer used already oily rags that they always seemed to have on hand to clean and examine their weapons. The marksman was satisfied with his efforts first and lay the rifle propped against his thigh, barrel pointed at the sky. The only woman among them batted his hat down so it covered his eyes and he seemed to fall asleep not long after.

Chewing with his cheeks bulging out, Zell wiped one of his hands on his shorts and extended a cut of meat to Seifer, who wiped the oil, dirt, and various drying fluids off to accept the offering. He shakily rose to his feet and squinted at the horizon. A faint cloud of dust approached as Rinoa stood with him, happier than most should ever hope to be to see a speeding automobile careening toward her.

Seifer prodded Irvine with his foot. "Cowboy. Ride's here. Time to go."

When he didn't respond, Rinoa bellowed, "Surge, liber! Cuna est non!" then cackled maniacally.

"Hyne..." He lifted his hat above his eyes.

"Yes?" Rinoa responded.

"Oh, quit trying that shit with me, darlin'. Ah just figured out our final kill counts."

"Ooh! I won, didn't I?" Zell leaped to his feet, that feeling of enervation suddenly gone. The steak too. That was gone.

Seifer sneered. "No way, chickenwuss. I had at least double your number."

"Please boys..." began the sorceress. "At least a dozen went down in just one of my ultimas." They all gathered closer together, talking animatedly as the APC approached.

"That's only 'cause I softened up the targets for ya, darlin'. I'm giving myself partial credit for the status effects and damage."

"Tck... Man, then I get at least another 40 for the Doomtrains alone!"

There was a loud squeal of metal straining and crashing from a nearby mound of monster corpses. It distracted them for a moment, but they quickly returned to their argument.

"Well, **officially** Rinoa had 109..." Irvine pause for effect, until kicked in the ankle. "Oww... Zell had 114..."

"Booya! I knew it." Zell pointed and gloated at Rinoa.

She folded her arms. "Shut up, chickenwuss."

From the south came the sudden squeal of brakes and the unmistakable thunder of rending steel. A hundred meters away their APC escort was cleft in two, a monstrous sword between the pieces. Zell started running toward it immediately. The red eyes of the giant turned to him as it pulled its sword free while the driver tried to escape. Sparks trailed the extraction, igniting the leaking fuel.

A piece of reinforced door landed to Zell's left. A boot behind him. He stopped, shaking his head.

Seifer stared. "Well... Fuck."

: : :

Author's Note Part 2: What? Behemoths look pretty bovine to me...

Selphie's line about time for beer was taken from Farscape, an awesome show I wish was still on air.

Again, I'm very sorry for the wait. I've been very busy, but plan to make more time for this. Thanks for the reviews and support; they will get find each other again, but it won't be easy!


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: I can't believe it's been over a year since I've updated this… I probably apologize in every published chapter, but sorry again for the long wait and I hope you can still find an interest in this, as I do intend to see it through to the end.

The past 13 months have been pretty busy for me. We had a major product launch at work. Several large projects around the house. Upped my count of children to three and pets to two. My count of wives remains fixed at one. Anyway, I've been pretty busy, but I've seen something of a renaissance of old-timers here and have a strong desire to get back into my hobbies, writing being one.

Enough about me. Please enjoy.

:::

Theirs was a severing that could not be tolerated.

Each was the counter argument without which their unifying theory would not be true.

He was alone even amid dozens; she was congested without a soul near her. His conscience and her eyes were no longer clear without each other's words and sights. He held an empty heart while she carried the burden of an overfilled head.

For he was the void she sought and she substance which would subsist him.

:::

Broken ground and unbroken silence stretched into borders beyond detection. Silty footfalls made an uneasy circle around three masses of rent metal. There were no survivors.

They watched with the mercenaries' own unique brand of detached amusement as blood pooled and congealed in their footprints, making dark red cakes of muddy salt and dirt. Personal, emotional views did not mingle with the odd, seldom seen beauty of monstrous destruction. But somehow, there was still beauty there. A fire still flickered in one of the burning husks. Clouds and air stood still in the valley without wind.

There was little useful salvage, but an emergency tent and rations were taken, along with a radio that might be repaired. Zell set to work on it straight away, as Esthar's shielding, even from this distance, interfered with their satellite phones. The others set up the tent and a perimeter with the debris and carcasses they found close at hand. It did not seem to close off the rest of the valley or to afford them much advantage should the monsters close in, but activity and purpose were in many ways more important to them in such a situation than actual accomplishment.

Rinoa made a camp fire. Of what, no one knew. It was welcome in the quickly fleeting warmth of the salt-stained land.

At once, the SeeDs all sat, their tasks completed. Static hissed back to them after each attempt to radio any Estharian help. Irvine gave the amplitudes commonly used by small aircraft in nearby areas in the vain hope one would hear them. And then have the skill and stupidity to land amidst some of the world's most dangerous fiends...

Alone they sat, with the newly departed souls and the many thousands of beasts. They watched the play of lengthening shadows made by the fires, welcome and not. A sigh came from the earth itself.

Broken ground and unbroken silence stretched into borders beyond detection.

:::

Quistis sat in the room now thronged with herself, Selphie, and a village of doubts. Beer, her friend had stated, will wash them away, and sunshine will keep them where they end up. Selphie, of course, was the sunshine; loud and bright even in the earliest of morning hours.

She was a bit hazy though.

"This's some good shit," she slurred, looking at the bottle in her hand. "Your knight in shinning, shining, armor has good taste." Then she tossed the bottle aside, her fourth, and waved in Quistis' general direction. "I mean, obviously." She then giggled and didn't bother to stifle the belch that followed.

"Selphie, you're disgusting," Quistis said, but couldn't keep herself from laughing along. She nursed her second beer and tried not to think of the gulf of distance and silence that so suddenly came between her and her sudden lover. Years' worth of nearly constant contact made the past day one of nearly unbearable deviation and she couldn't help but feel that coincidence equaled causality in this case. That it would every time.

With a gentleness that matched her impression, but not her true personality, Selphie wiped away an unbidden tear from her friend's cheek."Heeey… What's the matter Quisty? You gotta stop thinking that every little thing that can go wrong, will. That there are no happy endings. Er… Continuings. That every moment that passes means one other life-altering disaster, or something." She faltered, teetering after her bout of mind-reading. She put a beer bottle to her lips and scowled when she found it empty. "He's just on a mission. Like any other he's been on countless times before. You gotta stop thinking about it."

"You should know that telling me not to think about it just makes me think about other things and circle back to what I'm trying to avoid thinking. All roads lead to Deling City…"

Selphie shot her a queer look. "No. It's a common misconsheption. All roads lead _away from _Deling City." She nodded sagely, or spritely, head seeming to have more momentum than strictly necessary. The same could be said for the patting of her friend's cheek, which made an audible impact. "Anyway… Snap out of it. He'll be home soon and you got a mission of your own to worry about. Focus on that, if you have to."

Rubbing the side of her face, Quistis said, "Yes, you're right. I only have a couple more days before I need to go."

"It's a good distraction," said her bubbly friend. "I gotta get going, Quisty, and you should probably get some sleep too. Classes in the morning." With that last sentiment, she sprang up to hug Quistis goodbye and ambled out the door, turning clumsily this way, then that, until she realized where she was going. Then she wound up going "this" way after all…

Quistis laughed until the room had an audience only moments later, when the populous seemed to return. They found nothing funny and so she climbed into Seifer's bed. She tried to imagine him returning, there, to share it with her again, but it was difficult to imagine him in the throng of the village of doubts. He couldn't surround her when so many others did.

She hoped to be alone when she woke.

:::

Irvine took the first watch with Seifer, as his skills and weapon were not well suited to the darkness. He did not patrol. There was really no chance any of the fiends could make it within 30 meters without being heard.

A slight breeze carried through, wafting the silent flames and drying sweating brows as the sun slipped under the flat horizon. The visible world was a soft orange glow given by the campfire and the stirring cirrus clouds. Irvine fumbled a cast iron cup of coffee from the makeshift tripod over the fire. Sipping contentedly, he eyed Seifer from under the brim of his hat. His squad leader somehow managed to stare distantly into a fire within arm's reach.

The cowboy squinted at the last of the sunlight set ablaze the clouds in the sky as he rolled a paper over some tobacco he'd taken from Balamb. Clearing his throat to get Seifer's attention, he motioned to the bag of leaf, but the other man just shook his head. Irvine shrugged, and leaned supine on the most comfortable wreckage he could find, puffing contentedly. He squinted again, through the smoke, at the man on the other side of the fire.

"When d'you suppose they'll send another transport?"

Seifer shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised to be alone in the morning."

The sigh that responded was all smoke and fire. "You won't be alone, jackass."

"You know what I mean," Seifer grumbled.

All was silent save the shifting of the soft winds. In the distance, the earth rumbled and the faint glow of Esthar city could be seen in the twilight. Opposite the city the underground tendrils the fiends inhabited pulsed with an eerie green luminescence. Monsters continued to come and go through the caves and valleys.

"I bet they'll send another at daybreak."

Seifer nodded wordlessly.

"Probably with a note from the envoy blaming me for the loss of the last one and a bill for its replacement, along with Dr. Odine's signed statement that I cause global warming and genetically modified foods that release anthrax spores with every step I take."

Irvine waved his hand lazily, as if to shoo away the negative sentiment the way one would an unwanted dog, or cigarette smoke. "Anyone ever tell you you're too damn cynical for your own good?"

"Every day. Why?"

"No reason…" He exhaled slowly, letting the smoke mingle with the wind up into the clouds. After a short time he pushed his hat up over his brow and shouldered his weapon. Irvine looked down the sights and propped himself up on one knee and slowly traced some imaginary targets across the plains. His cigarette was tossed aside after on last drag and then he trained his sights on Seifer.

The former Knight had been watching all this with a small amount of amusement and bemusement, but quickly became concerned. He frowned and dodged hard when the first shots rang out just over his shoulder.

"The fuck Cowboy?!" His enraged question only partly overpowered the shrill cry and subsequent shots fired. Rinoa and Zell scrambled from their tent in time to see their squad leader gape-mouthed at the suddenly darkened sky.

Around them, monsters fell to the ground in mangled heaps where Irvine's Exeter had torn through them. Above where scores more, with their inhuman roars and angry growls, they ignored the SeeD party and flew onward to Esthar. Rinoa, still bleary –eyed from the little bit of sleep she'd had, thought quickly, summoned Cerberus and cast as many thundaga spells as she could. Seifer and the Zell quickly caught on – even though the monsters were well beyond the range of magical targeting, the lightening splitting the sky still would find its way through many of the fiends.

Charred and perforated beasts plummeted to the ground by the dozen, but it quickly became apparent that many would survive to attack the weakened perimeter of the city. Seifer waved off the magic casting as the fiends began to spread apart. The spells needed to be saved now that a hit was not guaranteed.

He walked off to examine the carcasses and carve out any useful salvage while Irvine continued to fire away at the monsters still in range as the light of the setting sun and glowing city created awful silhouettes. An otherworldly cry froze all on the ground and split the chevron of monsters in the sky. Through the partition an enormous figure flew, an amalgam of hominid, demon, dragon, machine, and nightmare bred inspiration.

If Irvine's shots had any effect on the beast, they weren't apparent. It just continued to drift through the inky sky trailing echoing roars and gnashing out at any fiend which failed to get out of its way.

The SeeDs all stared for several moments before gathering useful loot from the dead.

When they returned to the fire, Seifer extended his hand toward Irvine, palm up. Zell and Rinoa retired to the tent until it was their watch. His gesture was met with a querying brow.

"Changed my mind about that cigarette."

The lonely glow of ash seemed a small thing as the lights of Esthar city lit the night sky and flashed brighter and brighter as the night went on.

:::

Quistis woke to gentle sunlight pouring through the window and the faint trilling of birds on Garden's many spires and alcoves in the early morn. The gloaming of the sun twinned in the calm seas out the window. She sighed pleasantly, popping her joints as she stretched. For the first time in many days, it was warm, and she reveled in it. Not as warm as she'd wanted it to be, with him waking next to her, but alone and warm was still better than crowded and cold.

She dressed quickly from the bag she'd brought and completed her morning ministrations. Her thoughts turned to the rapidly approaching mission and food.

When she walked into the living area she grabbed an apple and bit into it before seating herself and plopping down the file for her upcoming mission. The reason this man was considering funding GARDEN was a little puzzling to her. Sure, there were the stereotypical reasons that certain people would sponsor: a politician would to curry favor amongst constituents, but GARDEN didn't really sway many voters so long after the last great threat and every government but Dollet funded their own army; businessmen would do it only to invest, with the obvious expectation that the investment appreciate, and again, with the relative lack of need for SeeD, funding the institution seemed a poor choice.

This man was both politician and businessman, shrewd enough under both hats to not be seeking this partnership for conventional gains. He didn't appear to be rich enough to retain SeeD as private security, which even if he were, would raise some major red flags to his comrades and competitors.

What then? Nobody just _donates _to GARDEN. There weren't even any associated tax breaks.

In order to make sponsorship worthwhile demand for SeeD would need to increase.

As with far too many topics these days, the more Quistis considered it, the more concerned she grew.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused on the man's rise within his industry where he'd been amongst the first to recognize the latent energy values of magical stones and varia. The techniques used to power his engines, factories, and vehicles were unrefined and expensive, offering little in the way of a cost/performance ratio to his customers. Many bought them anyway. They were highly functional, pretentious, and being "green", were very much in vogue throughout much of gaia in the environmentally or socially conscious crowd.

Plus you could get a sizeable tax credit if you bought one.

He had even made a few luxury and sports transports, powered by naturally occurring, though rare and difficult to cull, ores. Quistis threw away the core or her apple and read on, quite fascinated by the technological acumen of her future contact. Still reading, she headed out the doorway to her classroom.

Most of her students hadn't seen her in a couple of days and they noticed that she, like the local climate, had warmed considerably. The more intuitive – or gossipy - of them congratulated her – silently or otherwise. She smiled at them and set out her things in preparation for the day's lesson.

The Trepies, on the other hand, were far less enthusiastic. But then, so was everyone else when she handed out a surprise quiz no one had been expecting her to have the wherewithal or ill-will to make. She smiled at their reactions, which seemed to be quickly becoming a habit of hers. Shaking her head, she pulled out the file again and pored over the known aspects of his personal life.

Albrecht Renfield was 42 and had been married for many years to his wife Iona, 36. To date they've had no children and the intel Quistis has doesn't shed any light as to why, particularly in the light of the couple's obvious love of children. Together they've funded a number of successful orphanages in eastern Galbadia. It was always difficult to see lacking integrity in photographs, especially of politicians, but Quistis had a difficult time reconciling the would-be family man with his wife and the one shown in several other surveillance pictures with a multitude of blonde girlfriends.

One of her students raised his hand and waited for her to acknowledge his query.

"Are we supposed to assume there's stock of support spells available when answering questions in section 2?"

"Yes, but that should affect any of your answers."

A hint? From Instructor Trepe, no less? It was an incredible largess that her students hadn't expected, but she slowly shook her head with a smile as more hands started to pop up. They lowered dejectedly and finished their quizzes in silence.

Selphie stood waiting for her in the hall at the end of the period, looking as though gravity was a much more forceful presence on her this morning. She smiled groggily at her taller friend and took a sip of water from a bottle. A forced-looking smile formed on her lips as she squinted into the overhead lights and winced at the exiting throng of students saying goodbye to their instructor.

Quistis grinned. "Heard anything from Irvine yet?"

Her impish friend covered her ears. "Hyne, Quisty… Quit shouting." Quistis covered a laugh and handed her a couple of pills.

"Here. Take these."

She swallowed them with water. "Thanks." Pausing to acclimate her eyes to the sunny glare on the marble, she finally answered, "Haven't received any word yet. Cid says they're supposed to check in every 48, so something should come through today."

Quistis nodded. In Selphie's shrewd gaze she'd determined that the real reason she'd asked the question was to find out anything about Seifer. That told her he hadn't tried to contact his new inamorata or that she hadn't been able to reach him.

"Come on Quisty. Let's go get some real breakfast." They headed to the west wing.

Her friend was confused. "In the cafeteria?"

Selphie rolled her eyes and immediately regretted it because of the bright overhead lighting. Squall was already at a table waiting. He greeted them with a simple nod, eyes quickly flicking back to the morning news broadcast on the televisions opposite the table. Despite her insistence on getting breakfast, Selphie only sat down heavily once in the cafeteria and buried her head in her hands. Squall turned up the volume.

When Quistis returned with food, Selphie had her head on the table, groaning. The sudden smell of coffee with far too much sugar seemed to perk her up. Squall smirked.

"Hey Squally," Selphie chirped "Hear from Rin yet?" He shook his head. "I wonder how it's going over there."

"I wonder too…" A figure had slipped close to their table and they all turned to look at him. Aiden, suddenly having grown a spine out of spite. "Seems odd that GARDEN should choose to reunite a Knight and Sorceress together on a mission, and even more odd given their past. I wonder if it's a romantic reunion." Squall looked fit to make the other man's face even more misshapen, Quistis fumed silently, and even Selphie frowned. Fortunately for him, Aiden's survival instincts set in and he scurried quickly away, looking as though he just realized he'd voiced those thoughts aloud.

They ate in silence after that, with head bowed.

"Hey, Quisty," Selphie entreated "don't pay any attention to him. He's just jealous. There's nothing that could possibly be between Rin and Seifer. Right Squall?"

His stony stare fell on her then and she felt a little bit like it dropped a grave on her. It was obvious that his mood had darkened at the thought, even if he couldn't conceive of its fruition. Selphie shrank into her seat. Squall's fork clattered onto the table as he stood abruptly scowling at a point just above Quistis' shoulder.

:::

Sky blanketed only by stars now, their camp on the continent of Esthar was cold outside the ring circling the fire and the temperature was dropping as the night went on. Zell was rubbing his arms as he walked over from the tent.

"Yo," he began, and Seifer looked up from something between surveillance and reverie "Why don't you get some rest? I don't need any more sleep."

To his surprise, his squad leader silently stalked over to the tent, leaving Irvine, who had already fallen asleep under his hat for some time, to be kept awake for some time by Zell's antics and seemingly unending supply of humorous tales. Truthfully, Zell's prima facie selfless act was anything but. He was still tired, if largely refreshed, but Rinoa snored!

Seifer frowned at the loud sleeping sorceress crowding the floor of the tiny tent. He arranged himself awkwardly against one of the walls and managed to wake up Rinoa who blinked rapidly in the glare of her lighted watch and yawned.

"It's not shift change yet. What are you doing here?"

Seifer snorted. "Guess Chicken-Wuss decided that your snoring was interfering with his beauty sleep."

"I don't snore!" she responded indignantly. Would've put her hands on her hips too if she wasn't lying down.

He never replied. They were silent for so long that he thought she'd gone to sleep. She shifted, bringing one of her legs on top of his. Giggling, she propped her head on her elbow.

"This reminds me of when we went camping in the summer."

"Being chased out of Winhill hardly qualifies as a camping trip."

She laughed harder. "I know. That's exactly why I'm reminded of it." Rinoa sighed and edged herself closer to him, bringing them back to back. Her mouth shivered when she spoke. "It's cold." They had only salvaged standard-issue blankets, thin and torn, from the APC's wreckage, none of the insulated sleeping bags they'd hoped to find to weather the frigid cloudless night on the plains.

"Yeah," he concurred and put the blanket resting under his head over them.

"Do you ever think about that summer?"

"Rin… Why are you asking me this?"

He could feel her shrug next to him. "Well… It was important to me. I miss how it felt was the world was so much bigger, but at our young feet instead of a tiny thing demanding our supplication. It was the last time I felt like anything was possible." She yawned. "I just miss it sometimes, how simple things seemed."

Turning, she wrapped an arm around him and rested her head on his back. He did not stiffen at her contact.

"Rinoa…"

"Shut up Seifer. You're not as insulated as you like to pretend." His breathing slowed. "Now go to sleep. Changing the world is a lot harder than we thought as teenagers."

"…You changed Squall; how hard can the rest of the world be?"

She laughed and they fell asleep soon after. Outside their tent the world grew darker, but not by degrees.

:::

Selphie finally turned her head and stared slack-jawed at the screen behind her on which Squall's gaze was transfixed. The ticker floated by on the bottom of the screen which showed towers of glass and metal in the night. The video was captioned as "live from Esthar City." The luminous metropolis grew suddenly dark and the honeycomb shielding bubble faded away.

Vague shapes lumbered into view and faded screams mingled with the flashes of muzzle fire.

_The lights go out in Esthar_


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: My muse! She has rejoined me (however briefly? She seems frightened of children, bills, and homeownership). At any rate, enjoy, discuss, lambaste, _quidquid vis_…

:::

Theirs was a divergence predestined and everlasting.

He was the oil, unable to be grasped, to which there was no solution even for her ubiquitous, inexhaustible, life-giving water. Briefly joined, never to truly be one. He was the perpetual motion to her immovable object, never allowed to answer the question of what would happen should they connect. She was the preserving ice to his consuming fire, both bound to disappear should they ever meet.

And no chemist, physicist, alchemist, or magician could ever hope to change these immutable laws.

:::

Quistis was with Selphie in Squall's office when his call to Laguna finally went through. The Commander had spent the last hour and a half with one hand holding a phone to his ear and the other somewhere on his forehead. Earlier he had Xu announce Garden's intension to disembark toward the besieged city of Esthar on the following morning. The populace were happy to go help, but the erstwhile waiting without news of any sort left many nervous and edgy, worried about friends and loved ones who were already there, half the world away.

Something hadn't gone well on the mission Seifer was tasked with leading. Few surmised the team he took fell, but... Few thought they'd ever see Esthar's shield fall either. Selphie chewed her nails almost frantically, despite the bitter taste of the polish that assailed her each time she did.

Only Quistis wore the composed and disciplined demeanor of an unharried soldier. But she was harried, just as much as the other two, and though the roiling waves in her stomach never reached her face, her heart was being tossed about violently. You _can _lose what you do have. What you had.

A dark and sardonic part of her mind took over; telling her it would be so typical for her get what she wanted only to lose it. Like her parents and foster parents, memories of childhood and the long lost happiness of the carefree girl who forced herself to grow up too soon. Just like her instructorship, which when it ended didn't restore any of the relationships she'd felt forced to abandon when she took up that mantle at such a young age. Even her thoughts were ripped from her, mind sharing occupancy with another.

It didn't let her remember how so many wanted things that were taken were returned when she needed them.

"Seagill," a voice finally came through from the end of the line. When he'd first dialed over 90 minutes before, Squall put the phone on speaker, and was treated to silence and the occasional reminder that his call was slowly rising in the long, long queue. The voice startled everyone in the room, both for the facts that it was a real person's voice and that it wasn't Laguna's. He'd clearly given his private line out to so many that it wasn't private anymore.

Squall quickly shook away the cobwebs.

"Kiros. Is Laguna there?"

"Ah, no commander, he's on another line with one of the district administrators. But I can fill you in on the situation."

The commander leaned back in his chair while the others scooted forward. "Go ahead. What's the casualty count?"

"Last report was 17 dead, including three SeeDs you'd sent for earlier monster runs. All of the civies had been evacuated. Hold on…" Kiros was silent before sighing loudly. "Our defense minister in the city just informed me that they've driven the monsters out, but one of our armored divisions was lost to the WEAPON."

None of the assembled SeeD had anything to say about that news. It was a catastrophic loss and foreboding thought. They'd sent their loved ones to combat something that managed to bring the world's most powerful city to its knees.

"We're incoming," Squall intoned. "But ETA isn't for another few days. What's your SITREP? Can you hold out?"

Another sigh from the phone. "Based on the situational awareness of the fiends and how they were able to concentrate on the weak point of our shielding to knock it out, then flee when our forces had mustered into the chokepoints made because they attacked that weak point, I'd say no, we can't hold them for long. They'll be able to flood the city from all angles the next time if they're half as smart as they seem. We won't be able to deter them with our forces spread too thin and we can't fix the shields overnight, or even in a few days under ideal conditions, let alone now."

Squall had been waiting to ask about his team, fearing the answer that might come, definitive or not.

"What about the SeeD team we sent yesterday? You didn't mention them in the casualties."

"Unknown. The escort we sent to them was lost. Now that the fighting's stopped for the time being, I imagine we'll be sending another convoy their way, this time with demolition." At that remark Selphie's eyes lit up. "If the team's still alive, they'll proceed with the plan and if not, we will have to do it without them. Taking out those caverns is the only best shot we have to minimize damage and casualties."

"Trabia's still too far out?"

"Yes. And without air support it wouldn't do any good. They'd get mauled crossing those grounds unless they went far out of the way."

It was Squall's turn to sigh. "Hold out until we get there. We'll send Ragnarok and an advance party."

"Understood. Thank you, commander."

The phone clicked off, leaving the droning hum of the dead line. Squall looked up, the flint and stone returning to his gaze quickly after a short stint of being unsettled sediment. "Selphie, you're with me, get the Ragnarok prepped and ready." She couldn't quite summon the cheer that would usually follow such an announcement. "Quistis… Sorry, but you have your own mission."

She nodded, nonetheless hating the fact that she could not go with them. GARDEN departing meant that she'd have to pack and leave tonight in order to depart for her mission. It also meant that the institution which raised her from a child was in such dire straits that it could not hold off a meeting with a potential benefactor, even with the sieging of the one of the world's great cities.

"Yes sir."

Both women left. Xu regarded them sympathetically as they passed and summoned the elevator. Nobody seemed to want to speak, or were able to conjure any useful or soothing words. Instead, as the doors slipped shut behind them, Selphie's petite hand rubbed Quistis' upper arm in an unusually quiet, brief, and gentle gesture.

The small woman smiled into the fracturing glaciers starting back at her, for anytime she gave comfort, she also received it.

:::

He awoke warm in the early morning. The unobstructed sunlight was a harsh orange that bit through the tent flaps. Rinoa's arm was still wrapped around him and she was pushed even further against him thanks to the arrival of a sleeping cowboy, who slept sprawled out with all the grace of a metal folding chair.

Seifer gingerly extricated himself from the sorceress' grasp and stepped out into the sharp morning air. Zell was by the still-roaring fire, performing kata, and probably had been for several hours. Not for the first time, Seifer marveled at the energy reserves of small people. And also Rinoa's ability to sleep, Hyne, that was impressive. He should reprimand her for not taking watch as a part of his team, but…

Getting on her bad side was something he'd avoided for the better part of a decade. The _much _better part. Besides, he unfortunately knew secondhand just how draining being a sorceress could be.

Zell nodded to him sharply as he took a seat and set up a tripod to cook something for breakfast and boil a cast-iron kettle for coffee. A conveniently placed carcass of the recently deceased thrustaveis yielded some vaguely bacon-like strips of meat. Soon the crackling and sizzling that accompanied a mouthwatering (under the circumstances) smell, had the rest of the team joining their leader at the campfire.

They had to shield their eyes from the hazy glint of diamonds that the sunlight played off the salts. As the sun rose and they sat chewing silently, Seifer noticed the subtle shimmer high in the sky above Esthar, the transparent honeycomb of shielding, was gone.

With it, he felt, went his chance of redemption.

Unless things like that couldn't happen until after death, in which case…

"Fuck," he swore softly, and Rinoa, who was still so able to tune into him, noted the cause of his concern, and quickly began to stuff all the remaining pieces of her breakfast into her mouth in a decidedly un-ladylike way. He glared at her for her intuition as the other simply gaped at the normally dainty sorceress. She simply smiled, still charming even with a mouthful of food. As they finished, Irvine and Zell shared a glance and made haste to follow suit.

Seifer wiped his hands off on the length of his coat and smiled despite the conflicting thoughts on his mind. Surely there was some absolution in having friends who would help him fight his battles, for saving a tortured soul that was not their own, they happily followed behind him on the unpaved thicket of a purgatorial road. Perhaps if others thought it so, he maybe was deserving of the good that has happened to him, that continues to happen to him despite everything.

He was still going to kill each and every monster he saw, though. Just in case. Or maybe just because. Just.

:::

Quistis returned to her dorm room for the first time that day and the last. She quickly packed, being especially careful not to wrinkle the silk gown that had been selected for her. A gentle hum hung in the air, one which heralded the checks and maintenance of the anti-gravity engines of the GARDEN as it prepared for flight.

Soft rain pattered on the windows.

The strangest things helped to lend a pattern and cadence to times which feel as though shouldn't have any. They helped her continue her mundane tasks forward to a more inevitable and hopefully, more important, end. Her whip coiled with a well-worn rotation around her left arm before she clipped it to her belt. Six outfits shifted from bed to hardcase in succession. Her IDs, phone, and wallet slipped into place with the definitive click of the luggage's extended handle.

Slipping in to a light raincoat, she sighed at the window. Envying how peace in one part of the world could be so oblivious to the harrowing in another, as part of her wished she could be, but a soldier's heart could only bleed for the local, the mission at hand. No matter how local the remote felt.

A hard swallow later and she walked silently into the hallway. Her hardcase trailing behind her, finding a familiar rhythm of the cracks in the tile and marble, she made her way to the garage. She took only a moment's detour to Seifer's room, collected a pillow, hugged it to herself and smelled it. It seemed to steel her and she proceeded to the exit.

Having signed out an inconspicuous sedan, she drove to Balamb Town in the metronome of the light rain and against the organum of cracks in the road as it was eaten away in the journey. It grew dark and misty, and more than once she had to stop or swerve to avoid fauna dashing onto the road.

When she arrived the streetlights glowed with the halo given by the fog, creating the atmosphere of an old shipper film and the feeling that a once-lost lover might emerge to their hazy light. She remembered that sometimes those figures turned out to be apparitions of the odd lighting and that it was still raining. Shaking her head, she rolled her luggage to the train station, where she bought her ticket and quickly went to sit in her cabin, anxiously awaiting the ride to Dollet and the regular clicking and clacking of the wheels on the track. The little bits of sameness that softly ushered change into the temple of her mind and world were cherished little gifts.

:::

The earth burned and crackled in his wake. Scorch marks, bloody, watery pools, and fulgurites dotted the landscape between scores of monster corpses, and still he flew on, insatiable in destruction, his purging the fastest and most powerful agent of change in his world.

But there was no heady feeling of potency as the hexadragon that rumbled into his path was trisected without so much as cry or breath, nor was there a captivating gleam of dominance as the immolated remains of a torama floated along, still flickering with magical fire.

There was only faith that it could all matter.

So he parried the gnashing teeth of a behemoth and cleft one of its powerful limbs before abruptly ending its enraged howl. He flicked the slick of blood off his weapon and ran on, transferring a clip of AP bullets from his gunblade to the head of the nearest beast, and then replaced it before he was close enough to slice into the soft undersides of an upturned adamantoise. And still everything felt the same. Fiends surrounded him at all sides, the few wounds they inflict to his iron skin, quickly swallowed whole with a wink from a nearby comrade. They all fall to an unexplainable, inexorable rage at the stagnation of the world and its perceptions, and the frustration of man's inability to forgive his own sins without piling more on.

A great conflagration swept the plains, lending the stale air more of the tangy flavors of copper and sulfur, and earth seemed to tear itself apart as it blanched the salted ground with the phoenix colors red and black. So the diligence of the repentant pushed back on the repercussions of giving into temptation until it began to glow around them and they stared into the underworld.

The barren fields around them were free of monsters except for the occasional pair that would straggle in and out of the many tunnels beneath their feet. As the sun approached its apex, the fiends had descended into the unknown extents of their lair. Zell wordlessly set up a small camp, dragging macabre benches of severed limbs, and lighting the fatty hides for a fire.

It was not long after they all sat, eating and resting, that the sounds of an engine reached them. Turning, they saw another approaching APC, this time in a convoy, coming from the city.

Transports and tanks parked and when the engines shut down and the doors slammed shut the world was silent, save for the crackling and hissing of the SeeDs' fire. The men and women who emerged from the vehicles cautiously brandished their weapons and looked circumspectly at the mostly empty and quiet surroundings as Seifer walked to the one he supposed was in charge, the one being tailed by a large machine on wheels and a small entourage around it.

The man, a colonel by his arm, identified Seifer immediately and walked to him trailed by guards and a number of technicians hauling a wheeled kiosk between them.

"Colonel Hurst," the man extended his hand to shake Seifer's "You must be SeeD Almasy. Good to have you and your team here. Demolitions?" The Colonel looked around and saw that Irvine approached and stood at attention. "Good. My technicians will explain how to operate the ultrasound machine and find the best places for the charges."

As Irvine huddled around the group of technicians, taking care to wink at and put his arm around the lone woman in the team, Seifer walked with Hurst.

"I saw that the shield went down. How's the city's defense holding?"

"Not good." He shook his head. "Won't be able to get the shield up and running for a few days and by then it'll be too late. Bastards are smart. That WEAPON took out a fifth of our armor last night. Reinforcements won't arrive in time for what we assume will be a repeat attack tonight. We don't have the forces to guard the whole of the city, which is why we need you to succeed, ASAP."

"Understood. Once your men are done with the briefing, I'm going in the caverns to place the charges. Activity is low and I intend to capitalize on it."

"Make sure you make them count. You want to bring down as much earth as possible on them and you only have so many charges." He reached into his shirt pocket and produced a pack of cigarettes. "Smoke?" the Colonel offered.

"Nah. But I'll take a victory cigar when we come back." Seifer smirked.

Hurst smiled, and then laughed.

"It's a deal." After shaking Seifer's hand again he had his team form up and get back into the convoy. They left without fanfare to set up the city's defenses for nightfall. The team leader beckoned his SeeDs to him.

"You know how to use this thing?" he asked Irvine, motioning to the wheeled machine.

"Yep. Pretty simple. Sends a sound wave to the ground and measures the echoes to determine the composition of what's below. Only problem's gonna be needing to set up three times at least a klick apart in order to get a good 3-D image. I'm going to try making a triangle around the center. No way of knowing the extents of the tunnels, but if we can get the main trunk, or trunks, to fall and we'll be golden."

"And the explosives?"

"Pretty standard directional plastics. They'll shear into armor without issue, so the ground should be no problem. Jus' listen to my instructions about where and how to place them and we'll have a mass monster grave before the day's done." He smiled and clapped the dust from his hands.

"Good. Go get set up. Take Heartily. Dincht's with me."

The martial artist flashed a smile and thumbs up while Rinoa pouted.

"Awww… Come on darlin'. This'll be fun." Irvine put a heavy arm around her shoulders and shook her from her doldrums. "C'mere. I'm going to rock your world."

"Or at least make it shudder…" the sorceress muttered.

The other two mounted flashlights on helmets which dampened their otherwise unruly blonde hairstyles. Stocks of spells and potions would have to serve to preserve them in lieu of true excavation gear. Fortune favors the bold, so the saying goes, hopefully regardless of their level of preparedness.

"Hold up," Irvine shouted as Seifer and Zell were adjusting packs of equipment and explosives while walking to the nearest opening into the crystalline caverns. Their demolitions expert extended his hand. "Take these transmitters so I can tell where you are and provide instructions and make sure your transmitters are set on a high frequency; use 135 megahertz. Personal and commercial products don't use anything in that range."

"Hopefully they'll reach each other through the ground…" Zell said. The transmitters were rated to work at distances of almost ten kilometers when uninhibited by structures and competing signals, but no one could say how far they would reach into the network of scars and dirt.

Nobody moved or spoke for a long time. The caravan had just moved far enough away that it could not be heard, so the only sounds in the world were beating hearts, lungs' bellows, and burning. Sounds of a peace not worth starting a war over, one to be ripped apart and mangled, because it was the dishonest peace that made the world seem empty and proud and without danger.

Seifer looked down at the satellite phone in his hand and tried to decide whether he should call Quistis. He wasn't one for goodbyes, but he hadn't connected with her since he left. What time would it be in Balamb? Fuck it, he dialed anyway. It was probably very early morning, but she could be up.

It rang and rang...

He didn't want to leave a message. He didn't want any last words to replace the ones he'd already said. Just in case. He slammed the phone shut and grimaced.

"Well…" Rinoa swallowed as she moved toward the blondes. "Oh, Hyne Rinoa… Not before the big game. Never before the big game."

She pouted and folded her arms across her chest. Then the sorceress pointed at Seifer, "You'll never see her again you know. And you won't ever deserve to either. You never have and never will deserve her," she finished, scowling.

Seifer smiled. "I appreciate what you're trying to do… But on the other hand, fuck off, and make sure the cowboy does his job."

Already trudging away, he gave a perfunctory wave and picked up his pace, forcing Zell to cut short his farewells to match. The smaller man ambled up to his side and nudged his arm.

"The hell was that all about man?"

"Mind your damn business, Chicken-wuss."

"Tch… This is just great. Get sent away on my first mission in months and I'm about to go spelunking in monster-filled hole - shortly to be our grave - with a lovesick lapdog."

"Ah, go to hell Zell."

By that point they'd reached the opening to the caverns and stood at the mouth of a gaping maw. They could faintly see the strange glowing crystals ad hear the sounds of fiends moving or settling.

"You first."


	12. Chapter 12

Theirs was an unmatched orbit around the same star. His would stretch in a wide ellipse and would journey far away and at all varieties of odd trajectories; hers would make its perfect tight circle so precisely one could set a watch to it, let alone a calendar. One celestial body could only see the beauty of the other at infrequent, unexpected times.

And when they would meet one would be crushed to dust, become an adorning ring of atmosphere that bandaged the irreparably fractured surviving world.

:::

She stepped off her train the next day and into the darkness of Deling City. The walk to her hotel was a short one, but the early morning was already very warm and rife with humidity, so she was sweating by the time she reached the air-conditioned sanctuary of the five-star hotel GARDEN had selected for her stay. Quistis was incredibly grateful that she would be meeting her client here in the hotel as it gave her something of a home turf advantage, but looking around at all the people, and televisions discussing the crisis in Esthar, she wished herself in one of the secluded cabins SeeD had dotted the world to harbor their agents and clients from their enemies.

Being cut off from all outside information, from the calamity of the world at large, was a strange temptation. At the front desk, they took her payment, but not her luggage, and gave her a key to her room. She asked to have them send up a message when her contact arrived tomorrow and to send him to the lounge when he came.

Taking the lift to the eighth floor, she steadfastly ignored the ubiquitous news reports from Esthar and the hushed conversations about the disaster overseas. The door to her suite was slammed shut almost as soon as she'd removed her keycard from the lock. She automatically set out her outfits and hung them in the closet, set out her dossier, and slumped onto the bed with her shoes neatly tucked in beside it.

Photos, documents, articles, and other intelligence on Albrecht Renfield and his wife were spread out before her on the king sized bed. Quistis considered all the pieces, poured herself into the work as habit and distraction from all outside it, but couldn't focus, couldn't decide if she was looking at a puzzle with all its pieces or if trying to put it together would mean an incomplete picture or a wrong one with her mind supplying the invisible parts of the image. Her mind wasn't working well. She couldn't focus or even string together simple thoughts.

Sighing, she turned on her phone, which she usually left turned off unless she was travelling. Being too accessible has its disadvantages, after all. Her voicemail was empty.

Suddenly, she slid off the bed and walked barefoot back to the elevator. She punched the button for the lobby, offering cursory nods to the few people in with her.

Her eyes focused on the television behind the front desk as she waited for a staff member to get around to her.

"_City officials have evacuated the northern boroughs of Esthar and are encouraging anyone who lives within two miles of the city walls to leave until the threat is extinguished. Mayor Dobe of Fisherman's Horizon has offered to shelter a few thousand in his own town, but noted that it will not be able to accommodate large numbers of refugees_. "

The bottom of the screen displayed a tracking figure of the casualties: 119 dead, 53 wounded; more coming in hourly.

"_For now, the military waits for aid from Balamb GARDEN and Trabia, in a metropolis vulnerable at all angles, for an attack they expect later tonight, while those displaced by this tragedy look to the smaller settlements in the south…"_

"How may I help you?" a man behind the desk finally asked.

"What time is it in Esthar?"

:::

The first thing Seifer did once they entered the tunnels was scan the crystal formations. Semi-organic, their origin and purpose, if they had any, was unknown, but…

"Bet they'll blow up real nice," Zell summarized. The scan had revealed the phosphorescence in the crystals was volatile; meaning with an ignition source and enough oxygen, the formations would make for great big fragmentation grenades. That also meant no fire spells or techniques.

"Cowboy? Can you read me?"

"Got ya, squad leader," Irvine's voice crackled through the communicator.

"How are the images coming through?"

"Look's good so far. Reckon it'll take another 20 minutes or so to flesh out a good map."

"Good. Are you able to see where we are?"

"-eah. This thing's able to ping off the walkie-talkie signal, so even if I can't -ear you, I should be able to tell where you are. Just – drop them!"

They'd only ventured ten meters or so underground and already the communicators were cutting out. _Great_. "About two meters in front of us is a big patch of explosive crystal. Can you differentiate it on the ultrasound?"

"-ich way's front?" Seifer had no idea which cardinal direction he was facing. The compass he had wasn't working. "Never mind. The refractions are making a big solid mass. That must be it." He spoke again after a few moments. "Lot of that stuff down there."

"Yeah. If it works out we should be able to leverage it into a bigger bang."

"I'll keep that in mind. We're heading into a different area. – out."

Seifer looked around, helped for the moment by the faint glow of the crystals, and not needing to use the headlamps. There hadn't been any monsters or movement of any kind as they made their descent. Sighing, he motioned for Zell to follow deeper into the chasm. He thought that he heard the satellite phone ring, but when he looked at its face, all he saw was a message flashing "no signal." He sighed again and they pressed onward into the darkness.

They continued down and the crystals grew sparser. The tunnels constricted and began to branch in all directions, creating a confusing and claustrophobic environment. It soon became guesswork to find the direction of the cavern system's center.

With the head lamp switched on, Zell forged ahead, heedless of consequence since they had received no direction from Irvine yet and were just down there to kill time. And monsters, if they could find any. It soon happened that they couldn't stand side by side in the tunnel.

A deep, rumbling vibration shook the underground passage for a moment or two, without a source that could be determined. Both men stopped.

"Think that could be the ultrasound?" Zell asked.

The taller man shrugged, shoulders scraping the sides of the tunnel as they rose. "Either that or the collective snoring of a few dozen sleeping behemoths. Let's keep going."

Only a few steps later and the vibrations began again.

"You up above us Cowboy?" Seifer asked into the communicator.

It took a while to get a response. Zell puffed off copious amounts of dust off his clothes and ran his fingers along the walls of the tunnel. They were composed of hardened dirt, not much different than that on the surface: fine particles packed together by some kind of moisture and then dried like mud brick.

Some static hissed over the communicator.

"What was that?"

"-ved over to the east. Not ab- you anym-. Pictu- -min' to-her." Irvine's words were getting more and more garbled. "Wi- -ve a –an in fif- -utes. – out."

"Great…" Zell voiced Seifer's own thoughts. "Is there a point going forward if we don't know where we're heading and we might not be able to hear our instructions if we go deeper?'

Seifer had been pondering the very question since they'd entered the caves.

"We know we're heading to the center and we need to make sure the monsters are clear before we plant the charges anyway. We can come back up if we need to regroup to find out where to put these things." Seifer hit his helmeted head on the ceiling for the first time. "I have a bad feeling about this…"

"Ah, it's all in your head man. Let's go."

Fortunately, it wasn't difficult to maintain the direction that the assumed center of the tunnel network was located. The shafts themselves became more constricted as they trudged along, and Seifer found himself ducking under the low ceilings for a time, hating the claustrophobic feeling the narrowing halls gave him. While there had been few of the crystal patches since they first encountered them near the entrance, up ahead they spied the eerie glow at the mouth of what appeared to be a blessedly wider cave.

The crystals were arrayed far, far away on a column that could only be the center of the lair. Seifer pulled ahead and descended into the opening, privately congratulating his two-man team on their good fortune. It was just bright enough in the chamber to see a path to walk, so he turned off the light on his helmet to preserve the battery.

Unlike the rest of the tunnels, this big, open space was not smooth. There were dozens and dozens of small mounds, just a few meters high, all around them, oddly shaped, with wisps of _something_ jutting out. It was very dark where the mounds made shadows, and the shapes all around, so strange, it was hard to discern what the formations composed, if anything. In places there were odd, bulbous rocks, in others there were huge spikes coming at all angles, and in still others, tufts of what seemed like hair, scabrous metal, and the folds of ancient igneous formations.

Above it all was the huge column of crystals that was the only source of light this far underground. Slowly they wended and twisted their way toward it, with the ground shaking in intervals, progress was slow, and once Seifer had to reach out to one of the big rock mounds to steady himself, which quivered beneath his hand.

Dust flitted through the air from the tunnel they'd entered the chasm and the air started to feel feeble and stale. It was like the cave itself was breathing and taking away the oxygen from them. They had rebreathers, but they would not give them much extra time should the caves be cut off from the fresh air above them. And should the oxygen be eaten away, their explosives might not work as well as intended…

They twisted around the formations and made what became a slow ascent to the pillar in the middle of the room while warm damp breezes blew at their legs and faces. More and more dirt and stone began to pour from the opening behind them and from a scattered handful at other places in the cave so that the trickles became cascades. It was starting to grow hazy with dust, which darted and flew on unseen erratic currents of air.

"You'd best go back up to get a hold of the Cowboy. Find out where we need to place the other charges and make sure there's oxygen still coming down to me. I'm going to the central pillar." His words seemed to echo all around the big room.

Zell gave a thumb's up and started walking back to the passage up. He soon turned around however, jogging back to Seifer and tripping over one of the stalagmites. His squad leader turned to see him sprawl out into one of the rock mounds, shifting it, some of it, away.

"Woah…" Zell wiped the dirt from his legs as he stood. "What if the monsters get in here? I can't just leave you alone."

The ground shook violently and Seifer scowled. "You can and you will. I need to get charges on that column and the way things are rumbling around here, I don't have much time before the place is crawling with beasts clawing out to Esthar and plugged up from the outside. Everyone's dead in the city if you don't keep the passages clear. I'm dead. All the Holy Wars and Heroes in the world won't save me then." The ground shook again. "Understand?"

"But… You can't take them on by yourself! I don't care if you're Mr. Badass Gold SeeD, they're too many!"

He was cut off by the threatening swath of Seifer's arm.

"Just go, damn it! You know I'm right," he finished quietly.

Zell swallowed and nodded once, resolutely. Then he ran along the twisted path to the disappearing passage upward. Briefly, Seifer could see the debris shoved hard back out into the chamber and could hear the other man slamming fissures upward, but soon all was obscured by dust and shaking.

The world took a collective breath and Seifer trudged along to the central pillar, hoping that the weight of the world on his shoulders would remain a metaphor for the thereafter. Trembling and twisting rocks made even walking the convoluted path a difficult task. He found himself fingering the phone he carried self-consciously, and the explosives and communicator got the same treatment. Stumbling in the darkness, he came upon the middle of the room and strapped the charges around the crystal and rock without preamble.

In the case that a signal would not transmit through to the cache, Seifer made sure that the he set a timer for the charges to explode manually, bringing him briefly back to cadet days at the fire cavern, trying to pick a time limit that was realistically accomplished with his limitations, but still awe-inspiring. At the memories of his proctors' eye-rolling or disparaging smirks, he smiled a little to himself and chose a half-hour cutoff.

Quistis' encouraging smile came to mind as he rose. The single time she proctored his prerequisite she had tried hard to be the consummate instructor and still be his peer. He tried hard not to let the bitterness show in how disappointed he was that at 17, balancing her burgeoning professional life with her floundering personal one was the one thing she couldn't manage. That and cooking. And seduction.

He laughed quietly, feeling soon after, very, very alone. Still, he felt he was being assessed, as he even now frequently felt after reenrolling in Balamb. It made him hot and he felt paranoid. Shaking his head, he fought to focus only on making his way out to the surface.

When he turned back to direction he thought he'd walked in, just how dark it felt took him by surprise. Beyond the cone of light afforded by the crystals were only the faintest of outlines of the rocks, which seemed to have risen in the constant quaking, and a few dots of faraway lighted formations of minerals. A blast of wind huffed in his direction, warm and wet and smelling of decay. Once he rose he realized his oversight. The glowing rocks winked in and out while they moved just outside the cone of light by which he stood, until a pair materialized before him, atop a slavering Catoblepas, and more followed.

Seifer glanced down at his watch. He had 29 minutes and 17 seconds to escape a lair of waking giants before resting there with them, forever.

:::

Quistis contemplated the martini in front of her. She was waiting for her client, looking and feeling for all the world, like a hooker in her not-in-the-least modest dress, purchased only hours before for this very occasion. For the price paid, it left a lot to be desired, both in the way of actual fabric and in how much the little existing fabric showcased the exposed skin to the excitement of the intended audience. It featured a veritably plummeting neckline and the smooth texture of the straps was tight or loose in all the places that elicited the imagination.

She was glad that the hotel bar was underfilled. As it was, the amount of attention she received was extremely uncomfortable, but at least this positive thing she could level at her ensemble; it shouted "extraordinarily out of your league, gentlemen" continuously and loudly, even to the upscale clientele of the finest hotel in Deling.

Certainly her façade didn't help things any. She knew she looked standoffish and angry when she was anxious, and according to Seifer, nothing is more intimidating than an angry, beautiful, intelligent woman, even though it never stopped _him.._.

So, the men in the room studied her from afar while she tried not to study the news as it flashed across every one of the half-dozen screens in the place. Why couldn't she have chosen a sports bar instead? Time trudged onward in Esthar without sign of reprieve. Laguna's words tripped by on the ticker every so often urging "prayer but not panic" and extolling the sacrifice of foreign servicemen who are expected to "complete a mission to end the imminent threat this very evening."

Reason to hope; reasonable to despair…

She sighed heavily, trying to decide if finishing her martini and ordering another before her contact arrived would be a stepping stone or stumbling block. Why did the most elegant drinks have to be the hardest hitting? Unable to stop vacillating on the subject, any subject, she waited. He'd be here any moment.

…If her watch wasn't broken, she was about to break it.

It was only then, when she was at the point of breaking (or her watch was at the point of being broken) that her client came in. He needed only a cursory glance to determine it was her that he needed to approach, but still the glance lingered and he loitered for a moment before mastering himself again and walking over. Quistis couldn't help but to smile at herself and let it alight on the man as he extended his hand to her in the corner of the bar.

"Albrecht Renfield," he offered as she offered her hand, trying to be demure while offering a firm and sure handshake.

"Quistis Trepe."

He laughed easily and swallowed.

"Is that 'Instructor Trepe' to me?" Albrecht took a seat across from her and ordered a 21-year single barrel whiskey.

Quistis frowned playfully. "You may call me Miss Trepe, Mr. Renfield."

He waved his hand away when he finally took it from hers. "Call me Albrecht, or Al. I'm not one for formalities." He studied her, hands in particular. "Miss, not Missus?

When his drink came she quickly asked for another martini. She didn't like the direction of the conversation.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time for courtship."

He raised an eyebrow. "You made time for me."

"Ah, but don't forget that I'm here on _business_," she responded with a hint of mirthful severity, "not pleasure. Which is not to say that I don't like to mix the two."

"Fair enough, Miss Trepe." He laughed. "No time for courtship… But likes to mix business and pleasure. I suppose that's a good thing for the boys are GARDEN," he quipped with a wink.

Quistis managed not to blush, but only proffered an enigmatic smile.

"I suppose one as perfect as yourself wouldn't want to condescend to joining with anyone who doesn't meet your – probably unassailable – standards. Good for you, but it's kind of sad, isn't it?"

"I don't follow," Quistis responded, liking less and less the tenor of the conversation. Her companion rolled his eyes.

"You do. You follow and you lead." He paused and accepted the drink the waitress brought. "You and I are both extremely successful people and we are because I can manipulate and broker and play the long game and you can enlighten and dissect to gain new skills and obtain any tactical advantage possible. But make no mistake, Miss. Trepe: I always do my homework. I'm glad to see GARDEN does too."

She returned his smile, still waiting for him to reveal just what it was that he was trying to insinuate.

"We are the foremost educational body on Gaia. We didn't get that way by being lazy."

Albrecht chuckled. "No. No, you didn't."

Unless she was mistaken, Quistis was almost certain that his smile reached his eyes as he continued.

"I suppose I should get to the point before you've completely exposed all my weaknesses and leave me without any leverage in this meeting."

"Leverage, Mr. Renfield? You've certainly got all of that in this matter, whatever it is, but I think I already have your weaknesses worked out," Quistis responded boldly and with a seductive tilt of the brow.

The borderline raucous laughter she received in response was not the encouraging sound she was hoping to hear…

"By most accounts you appear as though you think you do. Well done. I was going to just come out and state my business, but you like a little puzzle, a little mystery, don't you Miss Trepe?"

She swallowed, hopefully imperceptibly, and smiled indulgently.

"Does it bother you to be at the mercy of a philanderer? To need to pander to me to maintain your way of life?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Though you may not let it show, I know it does. How do you reconcile the fact that I love my wife with my taking many mistresses?"

This time the question wasn't rhetorical.

"I haven't. And it's not our business today to work out your contradictions. The most successful and powerful of us find ways to be more than a sum of contradictions and so they leverage them to grow more brilliant. No doubt you've done the same in your lifetime." Quistis was beginning to process the man's motives and pieced together some inductions as she talked.

"You flatter me, Miss Trepe. I'm nothing so special. No man is more than the sum of their contradictions, nor less. If they are more than they seem to be, smarter, more powerful, more successful, then perhaps what appear to be contradictions are simply misconstrued."

Her eyes narrowed, but she remained smiling.

"Or maybe ruses?" she asked.

He smiled. "Is that a pointed question or a dull one?"

"I imagine businessmen and politicians must do _something_ to make their lives interesting."

"Oh ho! Pointed then." Albrecht chortled. "That would be telling, Miss Trepe."

"Mr. Renfield. From where I sit, you already have." He huffed at her good-naturedly. She finished her second martini and hoped that she could take from it only the relaxing, calming qualities and not those that brought her intellect and reactions into the gutters. "Why me?"

"As I said, you follow and you lead."

"Not at all an uncommon combination of traits in a military institution. Why else?"

"Certainly it is uncommon to follow those whom you lead and lead those you are supposed to follow. Besides, you are reasonable enough to listen to me, articulate enough to convince your superiors that my plan is sound, and not so arrogant as to dismiss a nontraditional idea as being de facto untenable."

Quistis mused. "You seem a very thoughtful man, Mr. Renfield. I'm sure your proposal is worth entertaining. Will you share why you conducted this elaborate ruse, just to satisfy my curiosity?"

"And give you yet more information from which to raise your terms?"

"Oh come now… I am not so calculating and cold."

"You are," he nodded. "And that is a risk I took in making sure you were the one to come."

"Hm." Quistis sipped her drink. "Then would you confirm or deny my suspicions?"

Albrecht set down his now empty tumbler. "Seems fair enough. Then I'm afraid was must get down to the business at hand."

"Agreed. Your mistresses, they were a way to get GARDEN to send me, but why not just request me?" Quistis turned away the waiter who attempted to get her another drink. "Unless you already had and were denied. I suppose GARDEN would have wanted to send multiple high-ranking delegates to meet with you, regardless of your request, because of the importance of a potential business relationship with you. So, you believed meeting with me, and only, me would lead to better success than trying to convince administrators and board members of your plan."

"Correct, Miss Trepe. I was afraid that GARDEN brass would reject me out of hand in a show of power or stubbornness."

"And you pretended to have affairs with blondes for months just so that GARDEN would send me to work alone. You believe that you can convince me and I them, separately?"

Albrecht nodded.

"It remains to be seen how well your faith was placed. Since you did not want to talk to the higher-ups, your request must not be for simple, or even complex, security. If you're looking for Guardian Forces, Mr. Renfield. I can save you some time: No."

"Ha! Well, I already assumed that much, and while having the powers of a demigod might make life easier, I suspect it just makes it more complicated. Am I right?"

_Everything makes the world complicated. Unless you can tear away all those things which mask its inherent simplicity._ She simply nodded to him, not sharing her thoughts, even as her eyes drifted to the television once again. Her companion took notice.

"Ah… The great burdens of those powers on full display. You probably have friends in Esthar; I'm sorry."

"As am I."

She swallowed.

"Well then: what is it that you do propose, since you don't want security, Guardian Forces, or war?"

"Your imagination is lacking, is it?" He smirked.

Suddenly, all the set-up and intelligence made sense. She knew what he wanted from SeeD, but she had just one other question first:

"Does this mean I don't have to seduce you?"

Mr. Renfield laughed. "No seduction required."

"Oh, thank Hyne… No offence," she quickly emended.

"None taken."

Quistis cleared her throat and spoke. "I will need some details about how this is expected to play out and then I will need some time to try to convince my superiors, but I suspect it will not take long. Traditional business is drying up and monster hunting is ruinous at the moment. I - We can't afford it."

"_For _the moment," he quickly emended, and seemed to see his mistake.

"For the moment," she agreed, and met his mistake with a watery smile.


End file.
